


10 Things I Can't Get Over

by Malliday



Series: Rom Coms Remixed [3]
Category: The 100 (TV), The 100 Series - Kass Morgan
Genre: 10 Things I Hate About You AU, Artist Clarke, Athlete Bellamy, F/M, Jerk Gabriel, Josephine is Clarke’s sister
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-21
Updated: 2019-07-19
Packaged: 2020-05-15 16:27:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 29,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19299451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Malliday/pseuds/Malliday
Summary: Clarke Griffin didn't date.She just didn't.Who had time to date anyways? She was far too busy with her art as a sophomore at university in North Carolina.And it wasn't HER fault that her dad had implemented that stupid rule: "Your sister can't date until you do."If you asked her sister Josie, it was DEFINITELY her fault, but she was 18, what did she know?Clarke was saving her from herself, really.And so what if the school's senior soccer star and resident hot asshole seemed to suddenly be taking an interest in her?She didn't care.Absolutely not.Seriously.Really.She didn't.





	1. Meet Not Cute

**Author's Note:**

> HERE IT IS!
> 
> Part 1 to my new RomComREMIX Series fic based on 10 Things I Hate About You is HEEEEEEERRRRREEEEEEE.
> 
> So I'm expecting this to be around 4 parts and it will be updated on Wednesday.
> 
> Also, this pic is different from any other that I've posted as it will occasionally switch between Clarke and Bellamy's POVs, as the story really needed to be told from both perspectives.
> 
> Anywho...
> 
> See you on the flip side ;)

**Part 1 - Meet Not Cute**

 

 

 

“Oh!” The distinctly male voice said, startled, as he crashed into her. “I’m so sorry!”

 

Clarke gasped, losing her grip on her bag that was slung over her shoulder, and watched helplessly as it fell to the ground.

 

Of course, all of her belongings had to come out of the top, the loose flap doing nothing to contain them. They scattered around the two of them on top of the cement courtyard, skidding to a stop in a circle four feet wide.

 

She groaned and immediately started collecting everything. Her brushes, pencils, the nice new set of watercolors her dad got her for her birthday - All of her supplies - And shoved them back inside her bag while the offender merely stammered out more apologies.

 

He tried to help her pick everything up but she glared at him, causing him to back away slowly with his hands up while she picked up the last of her things.

 

“I really am sorry.” He supplied, a grimace on his face.

 

He was cute enough, she guessed. Dirty brown hair and a boyish face that she currently wanted to punch.

 

He held out his hand for her to shake.

 

“Gabriel.” He introduced.

 

She huffed and moved past him, ignoring his hand and continuing on her way.

 

Sure, she could’ve been nice. Forgiven the guy. He obviously hadn’t meant to run into her as they were walking in opposite directions.

 

But then again, maybe if he hadn’t been distracted by whatever he was looking at across the way, he wouldn’t have run into her in the first place.

 

He was probably a freshman, drawn in by the sight of the tall, imposing buildings that scattered campus. It wasn’t his fault that he was so intimidated by his first day on a college campus.

 

Still, she had been a freshman last year and she hadn’t run into anyone on the first day. Instead, she had taken in the imposing nature of the architecture and sat under a tree in the courtyard to sketch instead.

 

Wake Forest was a prestigious university with a whole lot of history. The buildings were massive but beautiful and as she passed by them on her way to Reynolda to grab some lunch, she admired them just as fiercely - But made sure to pay attention to where she was walking.

 

“Griffin!” She heard someone call her name to her left and she jolted out of her trance.

 

Turning, she gave her full attention to the person.

 

“Yes, Harper?” She raised an eyebrow in question, wondering why the other girl was even on this side of campus.

 

“I’ve been texting you all day, woman! Turn on your damn phone when you leave the studio, would ya?” Her best friend grumbled, finally reaching where Clarke had paused.

 

Clarke giggled and reached into her bag to retrieve the device and flipped the switch on the side so that it would make sound once more.

 

“Sorry about that.” She shrugged. Her phone wasn’t really a priority for her.

 

“Yeah, whatever. Listen. Are we going to the game today? Please say yes because I need emotional support.”

 

Clarke rolled her eyes.

 

Harper was madly in love with the soccer team’s centre-back defender, some guy named Monty that was quote: “The finest.”

 

They had met two weeks prior at a pre-school year bash at Monty’s apartment.

 

Apparently it had been love at first sight and Harper hadn’t come home to their shared dorm room that night.

 

Clarke didn’t want to be the one to remind Harper that Monty was a senior and graduating at the end of the school year while Harper remained for another two years, but hey, to each their own.

 

“Why would I want to go to a soccer game? The only exposure I’ve ever had to the game is when someone leaves ESPN playing in the common room.”

 

Harper huffed and crossed her arms, falling into step alongside Clarke as she continued her trek toward food.

 

“Um. I don’t know, maybe because you’re my best friend. Also, what’s not to love about sitting around watching hot, sweaty guys run back and forth down a field?”

 

Clarke sighed. She knew she was going to end up having to go eventually, but it didn’t stop her from putting up more of a fight.

 

“Wouldn’t having your best friend there just impede on your flirt game?”

 

Harper grinned and threw her arm around Clarke’s shoulders, knowing she had won.

 

“Of course not! Maybe we’ll even find you a hot soccer player while we’re there.”

 

Clarke turned to glare, shrugging Harper’s arm off her shoulders.

 

“You know I’m not interested in dating.”

 

It was a pretty well-known fact in Clarke’s friend circle that she didn’t date.

 

Never had, in fact.

 

It wasn’t that she wasn’t _attracted_ to people, it was just that she didn’t have _time._

 

She had always been ambitious. She had been creating since she could walk and art was who she _was._ When she got to high school, she wasn’t about to let dating get in her way of preparing to get into her choice of art college.

 

So while, yeah, she got asked out _often_ , she just wasn’t interested.

 

And she’d never met a man or woman who could tempt her either.

 

Now that she’d made it to college? The game was upped even further. She was here to learn, to grow, and to one day own her own studio displaying all those under-appreciated artists she’d come across over the years.

 

Not to please her own libido.

 

Granted, she had the occasional one night stand, but she hadn’t even done _that_ lately because apparently, one night stands don’t mean what they used to or she was just really bad at selecting them. Every casual fling she’d had her freshman year had ended with the other person being heartbroken to find that she _seriously_ wasn’t interested in more.

 

It wasn’t her fault.

 

She was very upfront.

 

No one had ever had a problem with her not dating.

 

No one except her sister, Josephine, that is.

 

Once their dad realized Clarke’s status as un-dateable, he’d implemented a laughable restriction on her boy-crazy sister - No dating until Clarke started dating.

 

Josephine was _livid,_ of course.

 

But again, it wasn’t _Clarke’s_ fault.

 

She couldn’t control her father, and honestly, Josephine _needed_ some restrictions. It was like any marginally cute guy within shouting distance was fair game and that would _not_ end well.

 

Her phone started buzzing in her jacket pocket so she pulled it out to find a text from the girl in question.

 

 **Josephine** _Are you coming or not?_

 

She sighed and shoved it back in its holding place.

 

“Josephine?” Harper guessed, eyeing the pocket where her phone rested.

 

“Yeah, she’s meeting us at Reynolda.”

 

Harper chuckled.

 

“She still mad that you told on her?”

 

Clarke huffed and gripped her messenger bag strap a little tighter.

 

“I didn’t _tell_ on her. It’s not my fault she came running into my dorm room talking about that stupid guy she met at that party while I was Skyping with dad.”

 

Her dad hadn’t taken it well, threatening to pull Josephine from school if she started breaking the rules just because she was gone.

 

And considering Jake Griffin had a wing of the science building named after him, it was safe to say he had eyes and ears everywhere.

 

“Yeah, well, she’s still gonna hold it against you. It’s your fault she can’t date in the first place. And I mean the girl is a freshman in college. Even you had flings freshman year.”

 

Clarke looked around quickly to make sure Josephine hadn’t snuck up on them.

 

“Shh!” She hissed at Harper. “You can’t mention that around Josephine. My dad can’t know about that.”

 

It was Harper’s turn to roll her eyes.

 

“If your dad doesn’t know that you aren’t a virgin anymore, that’s on him.”

 

Clarke snorted.

 

“Let him and Josephine live in their blissful ignorance. Besides, I’m really saving her from herself. She doesn’t need to do any dating or hooking up freshman year. Trust me, I know. She needs to just concentrate on her studies.”

 

Harper sighed as they reached the dining hall and leaned forward to open the door for the two of them.

 

“You say that, but not everyone is you, Clarke. You should throw the girl a bone and go out on a single date.”

 

Clarke shook her head, looking around the room for her petite, blonde sister.

 

“No way. She’ll thank me later, trust me.”

 

Harper chuckled and took a seat at an empty nearby table.

 

“Sure, whatever helps you sleep at night.”

 

“Who will thank you and for what?”

 

She and Harper both startled, looking up to find Clarke’s sister, Josephine, staring at them each in turn, eyebrow raised in question.

 

“None of your business, kid.” Came Clarke’s snarky reply.

 

Josephine huffed, flinging herself into a nearby chair and dropping her bag on the floor beside it.

 

“I’m not a child, Clarke. I’m 18 now.”

 

Clarke rolled her eyes. 18. Honestly. Clarke was 20, having a birthday at the end of the summer right at the beginning of the school year, and already, she could impart to her sister that 18 was _nothing_.

 

The first year of college would show her that.

 

“Whatever, Josie.”

 

Harper chuckled, leaning her elbows on the cool metal surface of the tabletop.

 

“You like soccer, Josephine?”

 

Clarke’s eyes cut to her friend across the table, narrowing in annoyance.

 

“Don’t rope my little sister into this. She needs to concentrate on studying not going to soccer games to stare at hot guys.”

 

Josephine perked up at that, her eyes widening.

 

“Yes. Absolutely. When?” She took her phone from her pocket and opened the calendar app, ready to put the sporting event into her schedule.

 

“Fine.” Clarke barked, throwing her head back. “I’ll go.”

 

Harper smirked, leaning back against her chair.

 

“Thought you would say that.” Her triumphant grin took up most of her face and Clarke glared balefully at her obvious pleasure.

  
  


* * *

  
  
  
  


_God,_ why had she agreed to this again?

 

The cheering crowd was unspeakably loud and the jarring in her head was well on its way to becoming a migraine.

 

She stayed close to Harper as she pressed through the crowd of bodies that lined the chain link fence that encircled the soccer field. They were headed toward the bleachers, hoping against all hopes to at least find two seats so they didn’t have to stand for the entirety of the game.

 

Not to mention it was hard to see over peoples’ heads as a short person.

 

Looking up at the bleachers, it was only mildly intimidating looking at all the black and gold of people cheering even before the game had started. There was a line of guys in the front with their shirts off, their exposed skin covered in black and gold ink.

 

She wasn’t used to being in social situations, much less athletic events. And soccer was a big deal at this school, apparently.

 

Harper was practically vibrating with excitement, jumping up and down as she moved up the stairs into the bleachers.

 

“Harper, the game hasn’t even started. Why are people already yelling?” She questioned loudly over the roar of people.

 

“Come on, Clarke, can’t you feel the excitement??” She squealed. “Over there!”

 

She pointed toward the inside of a row near the top of the bleachers where there was an empty spot, and started to move in that direction.

 

They moved in front of people, stepping over feet, until they finally made it to the empty bleacher and turned to face the field.

 

It really wasn’t too terrible of a view, the bleachers not as high for the soccer field as they were for the football field. Although, she was pretty glad there was a covering over the bleachers at the top, protecting them from the bright shining sun in the sky. It was a beautiful day, but she wasn’t looking to get sun burnt anytime soon.

 

“There they are!!” Harper yelled.

 

Even if Harper hadn’t said something, she would’ve known what was happening. The crowd suddenly got much louder as the soccer team ran onto the field, their white uniforms bright in the fall sun.

 

She watched them all jog casually onto the field and start warming up with one another and tried not to make her interest in their stretching too obvious to her friend.

 

“There’s Monty!” Harper pointed to a guy with longish black hair who was stretching his shoulders and talking to a guy with curly brown hair.

 

“I’m happy for you.” She mumbled trying to get a better view of the guy with Monty who was looking down at the ground.

 

Harper chuckled, apparently having noticed that Clarke’s attentions had been drawn elsewhere.

 

“That.” She started, nodding toward Monty’s teammate. “Is Bellamy Blake.”

 

Clarke’s head tilted to the side, still staring, but wishing she had a better view.

 

“Never heard of him.” She shrugged, finally looking away toward where her best friend’s mouth was gaping open.

 

“You’ve seriously never heard of Bellamy? How is that possible?”

 

Clarke rolled her eyes and rummaged around in her pocketbook for her cellphone.

 

“I’m far too busy with my art to worry about soccer players.”

 

Harper chuckled, leaning back on her hands against the bleacher behind them.

 

“Bellamy isn’t just a soccer player. He’s the _captain,_ Clarke. He is the best player on the team and he wins championships.”

 

Clarke’s mouth pursed in consideration giving the guy in question a second glance.

 

He was warming up now. All of them where. She couldn’t help but admire the way that he handled the ball, his body twisting artfully to maneuver it across the field. Even from where she was sitting, she could see how athletic he was and her fingers itched to reach for her sketching pad.

 

“Well then, I’m happy for him.” She said, her words uncaring, but the dreamy quality in her voice gave away her interest in spite of them.

 

“Whatever you say, woman. I don’t know a woman alive who can resist Bellamy Blake. Granted, he doesn’t actually _date._ ”

 

At that, Clarke’s head jerked in Harper’s direction once more, her gaze questioning.

 

“What? Why not?”

 

Harper’s eyebrow raised in amusement at Clarke’s obvious continued interest, but she shrugged at her friend.

 

“I mean, he gets around, obviously. You don’t look like _that_ and not have a line of women _and_ men at your beck and call. But he doesn’t seriously date.” She hesitated. “I don’t think most people would want to date him, anyways.”

 

Clarke’s brow furrowed.

 

“Why? Is there something wrong with him?”

 

Harper hesitated again.

 

“I mean, not in like a _serious_ kind of way. He’s just… stand-offish.”

 

Clarke snorted.

 

“What does that even mean?” She questioned dryly, her arms crossing over her chest as she looked down at the field once more.

 

He didn’t seem that odd to her.

 

“Well. He’s not very nice, we’ll just say. Maybe even a little… angry? All the time? Some people think he’s actually a secret criminal on the side, which is stupid of course, being angry doesn’t make you a criminal. But most people just want to sleep with the school’s resident athletic hero and then get gone.” She shrugged like it was just the rule of order. “But I mean, if you ask me? He’s Monty’s roommate, for God’s sake. And Monty is the sweetest guy on Earth, I swear. And Bellamy’s a _history_ major. How dangerous can a history major be?”

 

Clarke was still listening to Harper, theoretically, but in reality?

 

She was watching him _move_ , soaking in Harper’s description like the most interesting mystery novel she had ever read on her summer vacation.

 

A criminal?

 

Surely not.

 

Angry all the time?

 

_Come on, Clarke. You don’t have time for sex, dating, or anything involving someone else._

 

_Especially one who’s emotionally stunted._

 

She sighed, running her hands through her hair and crossing her arms over her chest.

 

“Whatever. Moving on, when is the game supposed to start again?”

 

Harper chuckled and motioned to the scoreboard.

 

“When that clock runs down, they start the game.”

 

Clarke barely glanced at the board before sticking her sunglasses on her face and putting on her very best bored face.

 

“Awesome.” Her voice was wholly unconvincing of her excitement and Harper only laughed harder.

 

\---

 

As it turned out, soccer was pretty hard to _not_ be excited about.

 

Even Clarke, who was trying her damndest to pretend to be uninterested and bored, couldn’t contain a yell at Bellamy’s last minute score with 10 seconds on the clock, securing their win.

 

Harper screamed beside her and together, they embraced and jumped up and down, the bleachers shaking underneath them.

 

She couldn’t even contain her grin, but she chocked it up to adrenaline and the little bit of tequila she might have snuck into the sporting event.

 

“SEE!” Harper screamed over the roar of the crowd. “I told you this would be fun! Now, come on! Let’s go see Monty!”

 

Clarke was still smiling when Harper started to pull her down to the field.

 

“Wait. What?” She said, confused for a second until Harper’s words caught up to her. “You want to go to the field!?”

 

Harper nodded and kept a hold of Clarke’s hand, pulling her down the steps of the bleachers toward the grass at the bottom.

 

“Harper, don’t you think you can go talk to Monty alone? I don’t want to be the awkward third-”

 

Harper turned then, gaping at her best friend.

 

“You’re really going to leave me to talk to him _alone??_ Don’t you love me at all??”

 

She cringed, feeling incredibly guilty, and then sighed.

 

“Fine.” She conceded and Harper smiled and started pulling her again.

 

“I knew you’d see things my way!”

 

Clarke snorted and allowed herself to be guided to the field.

 

“Whatever. You manipulative biyotch.”

 

They had finally reached the side of the field, the chalk on the grass a few feet away when Clarke actually spotted Monty in the massive crowd.

 

“Over there!” Harper gestured and Clarke internally gasped when she realized that Monty was still hanging around Bellamy.

 

_Oh God. Don’t hyperventilate. It’s fine. You’re totally fine. You don’t care at all. So what if it looks like he’s even more stupidly attractive in person, you don’t care. There’s nothing to worry about._

 

“Monty!” Harper called as they closed in and Clarke watched his head snap up, searching for Harper in the crowd.

 

When he finally laid eyes on her, his face broke out into a wide grin and he ran in her direction, coming to a pause in front of the two of them, shyly smiling at Harper.

 

Clarke wasn’t even insulted that he hadn’t acknowledged her existence.

 

“Great game.” Harper said, equally shy, and to Clarke’s horror, her best friend actually started blushing.

 

“Thanks.” Monty also started blushing.

 

It was adorable. Really.

 

She had to get out of there.

 

“If by great you mean there were good moments, but we definitely sucked it up overall, sure.”  A voice interrupted.

 

She looked up then, glaring at the rude comment, but stopped short when she realized who had spoken.

 

She was right. He was even more attractive up close.

 

His dark skin was in stark contrast to the white uniform he was wearing, even though it was covered in dirt and grass stains. Standing this close to him, she could now see the smattering of freckles that dusted his cheek bones and the tops of his arms.

 

It was staggering how big he was compared to her ,now that he was in front of her. He towered over her, even though he wasn’t the tallest guy she’d ever met, but what was really impressive was the sheer strength he exuded, even under his uniform.

 

 _Especially_ in his uniform.

 

She felt tiny in comparison.

 

But all of that had nothing on his face.

 

It had been impossible to see as far up in the bleachers as they had been and now, she could easily admit that she could see the appeal. His bone structure was just fucking _uncalled_ for and the light stubble that covered his face made her want to know what it would feel like rubbing against her-

 

“Bellamy. Dude. Don’t be rude.” Monty said through clenched teeth, his eyes darting to glare at his friend.

 

Bellamy, however, didn’t respond right away and when Clarke’s eyes finally found his, she found out why. His eyes, dark and promising were on her face, waiting for her attention.

 

She blushed under his gaze and cleared her throat, looking at her feet, utterly embarrassed at having been caught staring at him.

 

She felt Harper straighten beside her.

 

“Oh! Monty, I’m so sorry. This-” She gestured to Clarke. “Is my best friend, Clarke. I kind of drug her with me to the game today.”

 

She smiled a little at Harper’s admission.

 

‘It’s nice to meet you-” Monty started.

 

“Not a soccer fan, then?” Bellamy asked, completely cutting his friend off.

 

Clarke looked back at him, her eyes narrowing before she turned to Monty instead.

 

“It’s nice to meet you too, Monty.” She smiled sweetly, reaching her hand out to shake his.

 

Monty grinned, his eyes flickering to Bellamy as he returned the gesture.

 

“Harper’s told me so much about you.” He offered.

 

She smiled a full smile then, showing all her teeth.

 

“And she’s told me an unhealthy amount about you as well.” Finally, she turned to Bellamy who’s gaze had darkened considerably and yet, he was still staring at her. “And no. Not a soccer fan. Although, I too, thought it was a good game. Maybe you should be more uplifting of your team, Captain.”

 

Harper jerked her elbow into Clarke’s side, hissing her name.

 

Clarke winced slightly, but held her ground, her eyes sharp and unyielding.

 

“Maybe you should learn more about my sport before daining to try and give me advice, Princess.” Bellamy growled, his face dark and unimpressed.

 

She could hear Harper sigh beside her but Monty only chuckled.

 

“See, I would. But it’s not _actually_ worth my time.” Clarke smiled sweetly, ignoring Bellamy’s widening eyes and turning to Monty and Harper once more. “It was nice to meet you, Monty. Harper, I’m out. Shoot me a text later, yeah?”

 

Harper smiled wryly and nodded once.

 

“You good to get back on your own?”

 

Clarke nodded, continuing to ignore the heated stare she felt on the side of her face.

 

“Yepp. I’m gonna run by the store on my way back to the dorm. Have to put in for next Thursday off.”

 

She nodded at her friend in goodbye, her eyes sliding to Bellamy again before moving on completely, turning her back to the group and exiting the field.

 

She could feel his gaze follow her and if there was an extra swing in her hips, it was definitely by accident.

 

* * *

  
  


“I can’t believe you were so rude to her friend, man. Can’t you just like - I don’t know, be nice every once in a while?”

 

Bellamy huffed and reached around his back to pull his jersey up over his head and off his body, throwing it into his locker gruffly.

 

“Whatever. She doesn’t know anything about soccer and she’s trying to tell me how to run my team?”

 

He hid his face behind the door of his locker, fighting the urge to spend a prolonged amount of time thinking about the tiny blonde hurricane that just confronted him after the game.

 

“She wasn’t telling you how to captain, she was just saying that you were being a jackass to me.” Monty snorted, closing his locker with a bang. “And you were.”

 

Bellamy looked up then, watching his best friend lean against the bank of lockers, arms crossed, eyebrow raised in challenge.

 

He sighed, closing his own locker as he threw on his clean t -shirt.

 

“What do you want from me, Green?” He grumbled, shoving his leftover belongings in his sports bag.

 

“I want you to be nice to my potential girlfriend’s best friend. Clarke and Harper have been friends since grade school so she’s not going anywhere.”

 

Bellamy chucked his bag over his right shoulder, prepared to answer, when a pest spoke up before he could.

 

“Clarke? As in Clarke Griffin?”

 

He scrunched up his features, turning to find Gabriel Santiago, clutching his own shoulder strap and staring at the two of them curiously.

 

“Yeah.” Monty answered, considering Bellamy was too busy glaring at the nosey intruder. “Why? You know her?”

 

Gabriel rolled his eyes.

 

“Yeah most males in the freshman class know the Griffin girls.”

 

Bellamy’s eyebrows rose at that, his curiosity over the unreasonably attractive girl outweighing his annoyance with the tiny freshman in front of him.

 

“Griffin _girls?_ As in she has a twin?” He asked, confused.

 

Gabriel shook his head.

 

“Nah. She has a little sister, Josephine. Clarke’s a sophomore, Josie’s a freshman.” He said. “And they’re both hot.”

 

Bellamy could feel his fingers clenching tightly around the strap of his bag and it confounded him. He didn’t even know these girls and one of them just handed him his ass on _his_ field.

 

So what if this pipsqueak thought she was hot?

 

“But anyways, _tons_ of freshman guys have asked Josie out, but she always says ‘no.’”

 

Bellamy rolled his eyes and continued preparing to leave at that.

 

“Sounds like a personal problem, then.” He responded and Monty laughed next to him.

 

“Nah, you don’t get it. That’s why everyone knows who Clarke is. Josie can’t date anyone unless Clarke does. Some stupid rule their father came up with.”

 

Bellamy paused at that, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise.

 

“She doesn’t _date?_ ”

 

“Nope. Can’t. Not until Clarke starts dating, at least.” He didn’t stop Gabriel to correct him, that he’d been referring to _Clarke_ not Josephine. “And that’s never gonna happen. Clarke’s _crazy._ Super hostile to everyone and always consumed by her art.”

 

His grip tightened once more and he willed himself to chill out, not understanding why the other guy’s words made him feel like punching a wall.

 

Or his face.

 

He felt Monty’s hand on his upper arm and realized that he must not have been doing a very good job at concealing his emotions.

 

“Yeah, well. You’ll find someone else to date, I’m sure.” Monty said dryly, motioning with his head for Bellamy to follow him out of the locker room.

 

They started to make their way through the maze of lockers when Gabriel’s voice stopped them again.

 

“Unless I didn’t have to!”

 

The two of them stopped, turning to look at the freshman curiously, unsure as to what he was talking about.

 

Gabriel held his hands up, motioning that he came in peace.

 

“I mean, she can date if her sister does. And you two seem to know her.” He looked at the two of them, his gaze traveling back and forth before landing on Bellamy. “What about it, Blake? You up for the challenge?”

 

Bellamy rolled his eyes.

 

“I don’t date either, asshat. And why would I date some random sophomore so you could date her sister?”

 

He shook his head, turning to leave once more.

 

“What if I pay you for it?”

 

He stopped and hated himself for it.

 

Guys like Gabriel didn’t need scholarships to get into prestigious private universities like Bellamy did. Gabriel’s parents paid for his education out of pocket.

 

Still, he wouldn’t date a girl for money.

 

That was fucked up.

 

“That’s fucked up.” He told him, his voice even and betraying none of his hesitation.

 

Gabriel rolled his eyes.

 

“Whatever, dude, I know you could use it. How about this? I’ll pay you $1,000 to take her out on one date.”

 

Monty coughed behind him and his eyes widened imperceptibly.

 

A _thousand_ dollars? Who the hell carries around a thousand dollars for something like that?

 

Gabriel, sensing Bellamy’s continued hesitation, spoke again.

 

“Fine, fine. $2,000. One date. That’s it.”

 

He was frozen, considering his options carefully.

 

It was fucked up, he knew that. But it was also just _one_ date. People go on dates all the time and they’re failures and they move on with their lives, exiting stage right unscathed emotionally.

 

And _man_ could he use that money.

 

His sister was a senior in high school, about to choose where she wanted to go to college, and she didn’t have soccer to get her in.

 

They would have to pay for it and Bellamy had been saving every penny he could for _years_.

 

“One date?” His voice cracked somewhat.

 

“Bellamy, man-”

 

He shushed Monty, holding his hand up.

 

“It’s just a date. Nothing more. I don’t have to keep dating her, yes? Just the one?”

 

Gabriel shrugged his shoulder.

 

“I think that would be enough.”

 

Bellamy stood still, thinking about all the possible repercussions of this situation.

 

He thought about the short, blonde girl and the way he’d felt when he saw her that first time.

 

She was so beautiful, standing with Monty and her friend, that he had found himself making his way across the field just to see if she was truly that beautiful up close.

 

When he’d gotten there, he had been inwardly pleased to find that she was even moreso than he’d expected. Her hair looked so soft, he wanted to run his fingers through it and the mole on her lip called to him in a way that he hadn’t felt in a very long time.

 

And then the way she’d put him in his place? Calling him out on his obvious bullshit?

 

His pulse raced just thinking about it.

 

She was obviously unlike any girl he’d ever met before, not looking to get something from him in the first five minutes of meeting him.

 

If he did this, he would never be able to take it any further.

 

He’d have to take her out and then bow out.

 

And he definitely wouldn’t sleep with her.

 

His heart clenched painfully at the thought, even though he hadn’t even been thinking of taking her out prior to this conversation.

 

 _But you could._ His mind reasoned.

 

He shook his head.

 

No way.

 

It was just a girl.

 

Just some pretty girl who thought she knew more than she did, talking down to everyone she came across.

 

She wasn’t special or different.

 

Just a girl.

 

“Fine. I’ll do it.”

 

And as he watched the mischievous smile takeover Gabriel’s face he instantly regretted his decision.

 

But he wasn’t one to back down.

 

Besides, it was just one date.

 

* * *

 

Two days.

 

It had been two days since that stupid soccer game and all Harper was talking about was Monty.

 

Which was fine. Truly.

 

But everytime she mentioned Monty, Clarke’s mind drifted to his best friend.

 

Which was ridiculous. She’d only talked to the guy for 60 seconds tops.

 

But he was just so damn beautiful. Even if he was an asshole.

 

And if he had become the new subject of her thoughts while she had personal time with her vibrator the night before, so be it.

 

It wasn’t like she’d never met someone that attractive before. But something about the way he carried himself and the way she felt next to him, so small and delicate, had her heart beating faster whenever he came to mind, imagining the way he could hold her, protect her.

 

Even now as she was putting out new clothes at the thrift store where she worked, all she could think about was his big hands and how they had looked standing next to him.

 

Or the way his muscular legs had maneuvered the ball around the field with a practiced ease that practically made her pant with want.

 

She sighed out loud, realizing that it was likely going to take a few days to move on to another subject.

 

“Bored, Princess?”

 

She jumped, dropping the blouse she had been holding to the floor, and turned to face the voice behind her.

 

He was standing much closer than she anticipated and she backed up instantly, backing into the clothes rack behind her.

 

“Excuse me?” She said, her tone somewhat breathy due in some part to her previous thought process but also in finding herself suddenly in such close proximity to the subject of her thoughts.

 

He smirked and leaned against the top of the clothing rack across from hers, the veins in his dark forearms standing out against his skin at the added pressure.

 

“I said are you _bored?_ That was an awful big sigh.”

 

She swallowed down her arousal but found it harder than anticipated to ignore when he kept looking at her the way he was.

 

After all, just the night before, she had been imagining what the stubble on his cheeks would feel like against her thighs.

 

Shaking her head, she brought herself back to the present.

 

“No, actually. Just thinking. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a job to do.” She said primly, turning on her heel, and walking away to her rack of clothing.

 

She could hear him chuckle behind her and internally groaned at the sound.

 

_Stop it, Clarke. He’s an asshole. We don’t have time for assholes._

 

When she made it to the rack of clothes, she picked up the next three garments and turned to find that he was once more right behind her.

 

“ _Jesus,_ would you stop that?” She breathed, her hand flying to her throat at the unexpected sight.

 

His smirk was still in place and he was dangling the blouse she had dropped earlier from one of his fingers.

 

“Do I scare you?” He teased.

 

She grabbed the shirt from his hand, moving past him to the sales floor.

 

“No, actually. But you do _annoy_ me.” She huffed, placing a pair of jeans on the rack before moving on to another one.

 

“I _annoy_ you? Why because I pick up your clothes for you?” She continued to ignore him. “Or is it because I get your panties in a twist? Hm? Can’t stop thinkin’ about me?”

 

She turned swiftly, her mouth hanging open at his sheer audacity.

 

“I will have you know that I can pick up my own clothes, thank you.” She snapped her mouth closed and glared. “And don’t, for one minute, think that you have any effect whatsoever on my panties.”

 

He grinned at her then, a real smile that would’ve actually made her panties spontaneously combust had the science been possible.

 

“The lady doth protest too much, methinks.”

 

She rolled her eyes and continued working, feeling his warm presence behind her, trailing along as she made her way around the store.

 

“I find it hard to believe that you are a connoisseur of Shakespeare.” She mumbled.

 

“Didn’t you know? I’m a history major. Not all soccer stud.”

 

She placed the last piece of clothing on the rack and moved to other half of the store where there were people browsing the selection of records.

 

“History majors aren’t required to read Shakespeare, just to know when he existed.” She said airily over her shoulder as she moved to the counter to check someone out who was waiting at the cash register.

 

He followed her, leaning on his elbows on top of the glass case, watching her work and ignoring the woman standing beside him trying to pay.

 

“So I like to be well-rounded, then.” He countered.

 

“Good afternoon, mam, did you find everything okay?” She asked politely, smiling sweetly at the woman and apologizing for Bellamy with her eyes.

 

“Yes, thank you.” The woman answered meekly, her eyes darting to Bellamy uncomfortably.

 

“Go out with me.” Clarke almost choked on thin air, stopping in the middle of folding the woman’s clothes and turning to stare at Bellamy with wide eyes.

 

“You can’t be serious.”

 

The woman between them was now looking back and forth between the two with worried interest.

 

“I’m extremely serious, Princess. I think you’ll find I usually am.”

 

She rolled her eyes and continued folding the woman’s clothes.

 

“Yeah, I’m sure you’re just a bundle of fun.”

 

He grinned again and it was starting to disarm her in its sheer attractive nature.

 

“Oh, I can be.”

 

The poor woman was so ready to pay for her garments at that point that she hastily put her debit card away and handed Clarke cash, telling her to keep the change for her tip jar.

 

She sighed, watching her almost run out the front door.

 

“You’re annoying.” She said, frustrated. “And I wouldn’t go out with you if you paid me.”

 

She watched as a strange look overtook his features, his smile dropping somewhat, and she thought maybe she’d actually convinced him of her feigned disinterest.

 

But then he smiled again, perhaps a little more forced this time, and stood up straight. His right hand came up to her face and she sucked in a surprised breath as he pushed her long hair out of her face and behind her ear.

 

“I think you’ll find that persistent is also one of my better traits, right up there with annoying.”

 

She stepped out of his gentle touch and moved toward the back of the store where her clothes were waiting, pretending she didn’t feel his eyes follow her every step of the way.

 

“I’ll be seeing you, Princess!” He called after her and she watched as all of the remaining customers turned and looked at the two of them.

 

She could feel the blush overtaking her features at the attention, just as she heard the bell over the door ring, signaling his exit.

 

Then she spent the next thirty minutes trying to convince herself that she was _happy_ he had left finally instead of the sadness she felt at how quickly he’d given up.

  
  


* * *

  


This was going to be much harder than he’d anticipated.

 

After finding out where she worked from a reluctant Monty, he’d decided he’d show up and ask her out.

 

She’d say yes. They all did.

 

So when she’d actually turned him down after he followed her around the store like an idiot, he told himself his disappointment was because he was off his game.

 

Right.

 

That was it.

 

An image of her, her nose scrunched up in distaste at his obvious pick-up lines came to mind then.

 

She had been just as beautiful as he remembered. The dark black fabric of her Ramones t-shirt with the sleeves cut off had contrasted beautifully with her pale skin and he wanted to take her into his lap and run his fingers along it, tracing every vain in her arm with his touch. Drag his lips up the inside of her forearm, linger on her pulse and press soft kisses against her skin.

 

He realized then what a dangerous game he was playing.

 

She seemed like a nice person, and, to be honest, someone he could potentially get along with. And here he was accepting money to try and ask her out.

 

He felt like the biggest douche in the world.

 

But there would be other people he would get along with.

 

And it wasn’t like she ever needed to _know_ about the money.

 

And what she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her once they didn’t see one another again after the date.

 

Right?

 

_Right._

 

 

* * *

  
  


She saw him again the next day.

 

She had been walking across the quad to go to class when someone yelled “Heads!”

 

Looking around, she noticed a soccer ball headed straight in her direction. She squealed and ducked but at the last minute, someone hit the ball down out of the air.

 

A very shirtless someone.

 

And dear _God_.

 

_Seriously??_

 

“Princess.” He grinned, sweat dripping down his face and his body, her eyes watching the drops fall all the way to the waistband of his shorts.

 

The V of his abs was enticing in a way she’d never experienced before and it took her a moment to realize that her mouth was open.

 

Closing it quickly, her eyes found his once more, only to find that he too was otherwise preoccupied by the amount of cleavage exposed by her scoop neck tank top.

 

“Bellamy.” She said, her voice husky and betraying her obvious distraction.

 

He slowly brought his eyes to hers and she realized, with apal, that he was completely unapologetic in his ogling.

 

“Thought any more about my offer?” He asked, his voice equally low.

 

“DUDE! Are you playing or what?” One of his teammates yelled behind him.

 

He turned around, holding the soccer ball against his bare waist, his back exposed to her then, and she watched the way the muscles rippled underneath his skin.

 

“I’m busy here, dick.” He yelled back, throwing the ball back into play and turning to face her once more.

 

She swallowed, willing herself to concentrate on his face.

 

“No, actually.” She lied. “Hadn’t thought about you at all.”

 

_Right._

 

He smiled, the whiteness of his teeth blinding in the bright sunshine of the afternoon, his dark curls falling free against his forehead.

 

“Well I thought about you.” He admitted, stepping closer and putting himself into her space. “Maybe just a little too much, if you know what I mean.

 

He winked at her and she wanted to roll her eyes.

 

Honest to _God_ she tried.

 

It was _so_ cheesy and lewd and had he been any other asshole in the ENTIRE world, she would have.

 

But she froze, feeling her pulse underneath her skin increase with every step he took closer into her space.

 

She gathered herself enough to retort.

 

“Sorry to hear that. Unfortunately, thinking about it is the closest you’ll ever come.”

 

“Is that so?” He murmured, his hand lifting slowly, giving her time to step away, and softly brushed her cheek before trailing downwards, barely ghosting over her collarbone.

 

She gasped at the sensation, watching as Bellamy’s eyes darkened for a split second before he seemed to snap himself out of it, taking a step backward and clearing his throat.

 

“So. What do you say?” His grin was back and it helped her snap out of her trance.

 

She regained her focus, forcing herself to keep her mind off his exposed skin and standing up straighter, clutching her sketch pad to her chest.

 

“I say find a new subject for your attention, Blake. This one obviously isn’t interested.”

 

Behind Bellamy, his friends that were listening chuckled and one even whistled as she turned to walk away from him, his stupid grin finally gone from his face.

 

“Man, Blake. I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone turn you down before.” She heard a voice say through laughter.

 

“Shut up, ass.” Bellamy’s deep voice said, annoyed.

 

She couldn’t help her amused grin.

 

* * *

 

 

He was _so_ fucked.

 


	2. We're All Fucked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG the response to this story has been TREMENDOUS.
> 
> I'm so SO happy you all are enjoying it so much!
> 
> This chapter things start to pick up on the angst side of things, but as always Bellarke snark galore!
> 
> See you on the flip side ;)

 

**Part 2 - We're All Fucked.**

 

 

 

“Just one date, Clarke. That’s all I’m asking. _Please._ ”

 

She sighed deeply at Josephine’s pleading words, refusing to look her way as she felt her sister follow her up the stairs to the art building.

 

“One. Who would I even go out with? Two. You don’t _need_ to date this Gabriel guy. Honestly, he sounds like some rich asshole looking to buy your attention.”

 

Apparently, some guy named Gabriel had started trying to woo her sister recently, sending her different gifts and doting on her wherever she went.

 

From what she could gather, they hadn’t even had an _actual_ conversation. Josephine just thought he was cute and liked that he bought her things.

 

“He’s not an asshole! And I know for a _fact_ that Bellamy Blake has asked you out at _least_ twice now.”

 

Clarke paused in her trek, turning to look incredulously at her sister who was staring at her with pleading eyes.

 

“Come on, Clarke. He’s the hottest guy in school and a bonafide star athlete! Did you honestly think people wouldn’t notice that he was suddenly trailing some hot girl across campus trying to convince her to go out with him?”

 

Clarke rolled her eyes, turning away and starting to walk again.

 

“He doesn’t want to date me. He wants to fuck me. There’s a difference, Josie.”

 

Josephine chuckled dramatically behind her.

 

“And is that a _bad_ thing? I mean, damn, big sis, I can’t say that if he were chasing _me_ across campus I would say n-”

 

Turning about quickly, she faced her sister with a look of disgust.

 

“Ew. That’s gross. Don’t say that ever again.”

 

For some reason, the very idea of Bellamy and Josephine made Clarke unspeakably angry. 

 

Disgusted. 

 

Not angry, she mentally corrected - Disgusted. 

 

Right.

 

She watched Josephine roll her eyes before she continued to walk past Clarke, up the stairs and into the building.

 

“You’re only disgusted because you think he’s hot and undoubtedly want him for yourself.” Josephine snarked.

 

“Or maybe I just don’t want to think about my baby sister in any sort of sexual scenario.”

 

Josephine huffed.

 

“I’m not a _baby._ ”

 

“Yeah?” Clarke teased. “So stop acting like one.”

 

“Ms. Griffin” She heard her name being called and looked over to where Professor Lightfoot was standing at the door of her studio, that stupid feather of hers in hand, tapping her foot. “You’re already late and if you wouldn’t _mind,_ I would like to get my class started _today,_ please.”

 

Clarke sighed, turning toward her sister and placing a hand on her shoulder.

 

“Listen. It’s for the best.” She leaned over and kissed her on her cheek, ignoring the displeased scowl on her face.

 

She made her way into the door of the studio, grimacing at Ms. Lightfoot’s scowl and walked over to her usual station, setting up her easel the way that she liked it, spreading out her supplies on her table.

 

“Okay, so for today’s life drawing exercise, you will be focusing on the male form, specifically muscle definition. The model will do three different poses, draw what you see from your angle.” Her professor instructed.

 

Clarke looked up toward the stage at the middle of the room. There was usually a chaise lounge on the platform, but for today, it had been replaced by a bench of somesort, but the model had yet to join them.

 

She busied herself with readying her supplies as she listened to the sound of the door opening at the back room, signaling the model’s entrance.

 

The whispers are what made her look up.

 

All at once, many of her classmates started speaking to one another in hushed tones, their voices excited and raising in volume.

 

“Now, now, class, you know better than this. Don’t make me ask you to leave.” Ms. Lightfoot scolded and Clarke’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

 

When she turned to see what the commotion was about, she stopped breathing.

 

It was Bellamy.

 

He was wearing the same sort of silk robe all the model’s usually wore but he made it look decidedly sexy in a weird way. When her eyes finally found his, she saw that he wasn’t looking at the class or even the platform he was walking toward.

 

He was looking at her. Walking across the room, his eyes never left hers.

 

She gulped, her mouth suddenly watering at the notion of getting to _draw_ him. It was all she had thought about for _days_ , even while she’d been sitting at the stupid soccer game.

 

Well. 

 

Maybe not _all_ she had thought about.

 

“First pose.” Her professor called.

 

She held her breath as Bellamy stood next to the bench and slowly untied his robe before dropping it to the floor.

 

She didn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed that he was wearing boxer briefs underneath the silk material.

 

They clung to him like a second skin though, and she could easily see the tone of his thighs through the material, the bulge of his dick apparent as well.

 

_Sweet Jesus._

 

That was him _not_ aroused?

 

She just managed to contain the whimper that rose to the surface, instead choosing to focus on her materials once more, readying everything for the assignment and studiously avoiding looking at the platform.

 

She could see Bellamy vaguely in her peripheral, moving about on the platform before settling into a position.

 

When she looked up once more, he was seated on the bench, one foot propped up on the top so that he could lean on top of it with his elbow. His other foot was rested on the floor and she silently lamented the fact that he was wearing underwear.

 

It would’ve been such a great view.

 

“Now remember, today’s focus is muscle. You may begin.”

 

Once the clock started, she knew she only had 30 minutes for the pose, so she immediately got to work. Because as much as she wanted to sit and admire Bellamy’s physique all day, she _was_ itching with the desire to draw him.

 

He was a beautiful subject, all lean muscle and strength. 

 

It made her long for him to wrap her up in his arms or maybe feel him against her as he used his strong body to press her into the sheets of her bed.

 

_Focus, woman._

 

Once she got started, it came naturally. She eyed his muscle with well-honed practice, putting pencil to paper and sketching her vision of him.

 

From her angle, she could see the pop of his shoulder muscle as it strained to hold his body upright against his knee.

 

“Time.” Professor Lightfoot called and she blinked quickly in succession, hardly believing that thirty minutes had passed. “Pose two.”

 

Bellamy moved then, stretching for a moment before moving into his second position.

 

Clarke switched out the paper on the easel, tucking her first creation away as she watched him stand, placing his right foot on the bench before leaning over onto his knee, exposing the muscles of his back to Clarke’s side of the room.

 

She sighed before she could catch herself, imagining the way her hands would run down his back as he pressed into her.

 

“Begin.”

 

This thirty minutes flew by just as easily as the first as she lost herself in the way his muscles flexed with the effort of holding himself in position.

 

“Time.” The call came for a second time and she studied her work, her fingers lightly tracing the sketch, feeling it as if it were the real thing, wishing it was.

 

“Pose Three”

 

For this pose, Bellamy sat on the bench completely, elbows on his knees, as he looked up across the room.

 

At her.

 

“Begin.”

 

She hesitated this time, her gaze refusing to leave his, holding it for a moment longer before she swallowed and began drawing. 

 

Losing herself in the way his jaw clenched, the tendons there popping up against his flesh. She took her time sketching his bone structure before focusing on the muscles of his face and then the way his eyes narrowed under her scrutiny.

 

She couldn’t help herself as her gaze drifted downward once more, her eyes lingering on everything she could see, desperate to remember the way he looked since it would likely be the only time she had the opportunity.

 

“Time.” Professor Lightfoot called a final time.

 

This time, students started moving, gathering their drawings and putting away their materials. 

 

As the people around her prepared to turn in their work and leave, she remained still, her gaze caught on his. He hadn’t moved the entire time, watching her as she worked, making her squirm underneath her skin.

 

Subtly, she rubbed her thighs together, eager to relieve some of the tension.

 

She watched his jaw clench tighter, his gaze darken, and his eyes narrow before he stood and made his way out of the room to the changing area. 

 

Air suddenly rushed into her lungs as she started breathing normally again, Bellamy’s presence a hindrance to that necessary life function.

 

Looking down at her paper, she realized that it was some of her best work. The attention to detail was unusual for her pieces and she knew it would grant her a good score.

 

She rolled the three drawings up, tying them off and laying them on the teacher’s table before turning and packing up her materials and slinging her bag over her shoulder.

 

“Enjoy the view, Princess?”

 

She jumped slightly, turning to face him.

 

“Is that just like, what you _do_? Try and scare the shit out of people?” She said, her voice only mildly showing her frustration, but her eyes instantly moving to the pecs under his t-shirt. Pecs that she now knew were beautiful and perfect and-

 

“Maybe. Or maybe it’s just you.” He grinned down at her.

 

She rolled her eyes and found that she wasn’t even a little bit surprised when he followed her out the door of the classroom.

 

“You know, one of these days, you’ll get the hint.” She said matter-of-factly. “I’m not interested.”

 

So maybe it wasn’t her most convincing tone of voice, but honestly, she was doing good to even say those blasphemous words, her arousal against her thighs reminding her that she was one hundred percent affected by Bellamy’s presence.

 

“Oh, I know.” He said, his tone light.

 

She stopped at the top of the flight of stairs and turned to look at him.

 

“You know?” She asked, confused.

 

His stupid smile only widened at her obvious confusion.

 

“Well, yeah. I’m not an idiot. History major, remember?”

 

Huffing, she pulled her strap over her shoulder and started clopping down the stairs, Bellamy following her every step of the way, his steps heavier and louder against the concrete.

 

“Could’ve fooled me.” She snarkily responded. “What with the way you’re _following_ me and all.”

 

Bellamy chuckled and suddenly she watched, stunned, as he reached out and opened the door to the building for her before she could open herself.

 

“I’m not following you” He insisted. “How was I supposed to know that you would be in that specific Life Drawing class?”

 

She studied him from the side of her eyes as she passed him to exit the building.

 

“Sure.” She was unconvinced. “So what then? You’re just walking me out of the building for my _safety?_ ”

 

She watched him shrug his shoulder.

 

“I have a sister. Maybe I have a thing for not wanting the women in my life to walk home alone at night.”

 

She snorted.

 

“I’m not a woman in your life.”

 

“Yet.” Was his quick response.

 

“I thought you said you knew I wasn’t interested?” She asked, exasperated.

 

“Oh, I do. I just also know that I’m pretty damn persistent.”

 

She stopped, swiveling around to face his stupidly handsome face, resenting the smirk that was currently taking up residence there.

 

“You might be, but I’ve been told I’m pretty stubborn.”

 

His eyes were twinkling slightly as he leaned in, his breath mingling with hers, and she found herself mesmerized by them.

 

“I have a soccer game tomorrow. You should be there.”

 

She swallowed, vaguely remembering that Harper mentioned a soccer game earlier that day.

 

“I told you I’m not a soccer fan.” She was honestly pleased with the evenness of her voice as she turned him down _yet again._

 

But he was still close to her face, his grin unwavering as his fingers suddenly reached up and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, her breathing leaving her in a whoosh.

 

“No but you’re a _me_ fan.”

 

At that, she snapped out of her spell, rolling her eyes and stepping back out of his space.

 

“Not particularly.”

 

She turned, walking away from his smiling face, quickly trying to escape before she found herself caving into the heat of his gaze.

 

“So I’ll see you there?” He called after her retreating figure as she walked up the stairs to her building.

 

“Not likely.” She yelled back, not even bothering to glance back over her shoulder.

 

“So that’s a yes, then!” He called again as she opened the door, making her way inside her building without a response.

 

Once the door was closed safely behind her she sighed deeply, biting down on her bottom lip and leaning back against the closed door, fighting her growing smile.

 

 

* * *

 

He was in so much trouble.

 

He should back out. He knew this.

 

And yet, he didn’t know a way out of the whole fucked up situation.

 

This whole fucking thing was just his fucking luck, wasn’t it? He’d spent years ignoring actual relationships and only meeting people who wanted a piece of him.

 

And now that he’d actually found someone who didn’t want to give him the time of day, he found himself wanting to take up more and more of her time.

 

Without the money hanging over his head.

 

He sighed, throwing his bag to the floor of his bedroom before throwing himself down on top of his bed, looking at the ceiling.

 

It was why he signed up to model in her art class.

 

Harper had let it drop during her conversation with Monty that Clarke was in Life Drawing and he’d instantly remembered the ad that was pinned in the common area of the square looking for models.

 

He’d modeled at two different life drawing classes before he finally ended up in hers, and none of them were remotely close to the feeling of being up there on that stage, her eyes watching him carefully, studying him.

 

He found himself on more than one occasion thinking about the most disgusting things he could imagine in an effort to keep his erection at bay. 

 

In the other two courses, the whole modeling thing hadn’t been arousing at _all_ , but modeling and knowing that Clarke was drawing him was something else _entirely._

 

He officially didn’t know what to do.

 

A part of him whispered that he needed to back out, but another countered that his sister needed the money.

 

He fell asleep with an answer still alluding him.

 

* * *

 

The next morning rang in bright and early, the morning sunshine glinting through her open window as a reminder that she should probably get up and get dressed if she was going to make it to her English Lit class.

 

She sighed, pushing back the covers, immediately reaching over to grab her cell phone from its cradle on the nightstand, eyes blurring with sleep as she tried to read the text messages she had waiting from Harper.

 

 **Harper** _You awake?_

 

 **Harper** _You better get up if you’re going to make it to class on time. I know you’ll go by the Coffee Bean, whether it makes you late or not._

 

 **Harper** _Don’t forget we have the soccer game this evening!_

 

Clarke groaned, rolling over and putting the phone back in its spot.

 

Of course she hadn’t forgotten about the soccer game. How could she forget about it when she spent most of the night tossing and turning, her dreams a vivid combination of she and Bellamy in various sexual positions.

 

She woke up some time around two AM and brought herself to orgasm _twice_  before going back to sleep, all to no avail. 

 

She would be dreaming about his perfect muscles until the end of time, she knew.

 

Literally, one day, she would be sitting on her front porch, her husband at the grocery store, and she’d _still_ be thinking about the way Bellamy’s back muscles deliciously clenched as he held himself upright on that bench. 

 

Definitely time to get up.

 

Quickly, she got dressed and ran a brush through her hair, plaiting it back in a loose braid before she grabbed her bag and rushed out of the room.

 

That was the best part of college - No use in worrying about the whole “looking nice” aspect of going to class.

 

No one gave a shit.

 

She did, in fact, stop at the Coffee Bean and grab her daily mocha before she made her way toward the english building.

 

English wasn’t her worse required course, by far. She actually enjoyed their creative writing projects they did and often times, the material would have close connections to some of her art history studies.

 

So she usually enjoyed going to English, primly setting up near the back, four rows from the wall to be exact.

 

Today, she walked in with two minutes to spare and took her usual spot at the end of the row. There weren’t a lot of people in this particular section because it was at nine AM, but Clarke actually preferred small classes because they felt more intimate and you didn’t have to be scrounged up beside the guy who had an onion bagel every morning.

 

Apparently, not everyone got that memo because at that exact moment, she felt a body drop into the seat on the other side of her as she reached down to grab her laptop from her bag.

 

She internally groaned at her misfortune, but rose with her laptop in tow, still intending to be polite even if she wanted to be the exact opposite.

 

“Good morn-” She started, but stopped when she looked up to see Bellamy grinning over at her.

 

“Good morning, Princess.” He said, his voice light and amused.

 

Her eyes widened comically.

 

“Are you kidding me? Seriously?”

 

He held his hands up in defense before she could even accuse him of stalking.

 

“Woah, woah before you go off, I’m not _following_ you. This one actually was a happy accident.” He sighed, gesturing to her professor at the front of the room. “Dr. Franks is my english professor. Coach just changed my training schedule and Dr. Franks was kind enough to let me into his other section after cut off.”

 

Clarke’s eyes narrowed as she took in the innocent look on his face but she huffed, crossing her arms over her chest, leaning back in her seat and getting mentally ready for class.

 

“I’m sure he did.” She grumbled. “And I suppose Dr. Franks suggested that you sit in the seat _right beside me_ even though there are literally hundreds of available seats?”

 

She could see Bellamy’s lips quirk up at her comment from her peripheral vision.

 

“Nah, that was me. But I mean, come on, I thought we were becoming friends?” He said, his voice asking a question.

 

She snorted, her head turning to glare at him once more.

 

“You following me around campus and asking me out because of some apparent obsession you have with rejection doesn’t classify as the two of us becoming friends, Blake.”

 

He grinned, leaning back in his seat so that his face was level with hers, inches away.

 

“So what does a guy gotta do to earn that title then, hmm?”

 

Clarke rolled her eyes, turning away from him to face the front of the room where their professor was loading up his presentation.

 

“So you want to be my friend now, huh? Giving up already?”

 

She felt Bellamy’s arm brush against hers as he chuckled.

 

“No way, Princess.” He mumbled, his voice dipping down as their professor started to speak. “Thought anymore about coming to my game today?”

 

“Not at all.” She lied, her arms unfolding and opening her Google document for that day’s class.

 

Bellamy laughed again, coughing into his fist in an effort to hide it, Dr. Franks choosing that moment to look their way.

 

* * *

 

 

“I’m out.” He told Gabriel before the game, grabbing his jersey from his locker and ignoring the look he could feel Monty giving him to his left.

 

“You’re _out?_ ” Gabriel asked, the incredulous tone of his voice rubbing him the wrong way. “We had a deal, Blake.”

 

“Yeah well, I rebuke on our agreement. I don’t want your fucking money.” Bellamy said, slamming his locker shut and turning to face the other man. “I’m no longer interested in our arrangement.”

 

Gabriel rolled his eyes.

 

“So what? You’ve grown a conscience now?” He sighed, crossing his arms over his chest. “Fine. What’ll it take?”

 

Bellamy’s eyes narrowed.

 

“Nothing. I told you, I’m not interested. What is it with her sister that has you so desperate to date her anyways? There are plenty of hot girls on campus”

 

“Not interested, huh?” Gabriel taunted, ignoring Bellamy’s reasoning. “Not even if I pay you $5,000?”

 

Bellamy swore, running his hands through his hair in frustration. He could feel Monty step closer to him from behind, obviously trying to be a supportive presence.

 

He stopped, looking at the ground, his teeth clenched together as he considered the upped amount of money.

 

What the fuck was he thinking?

 

She was a _girl._  

 

Just a girl. Was he really going to turn down $5,000 toward his sister’s college fund because he thought some girl was hot?

 

He waited a beat longer, warring with himself, before he responded.

 

“Fine.”

 

“Bellamy-” Monty whispered behind him but he held his hand up to stop him.

 

“Fine, I’ll do it.”

 

Gabriel was smirking and Bellamy had to physically restrain himself from pummeling the freshman into the ground.

 

“Thought you’d say that.” He said, slamming his locker shut and brushing past Bellamy on his way out of the locker room.

 

“Bellamy.” Monty started again once Gabriel was out of earshot. “This has got to stop. You’ve met Clarke now. You know she’s a good person. The two of you could even-”

 

“No.” He stopped Monty before he could elaborate. He didn’t want to think about possibilities with Clarke. Not when it would never end well. “I have to do this. It’s for my sister, man.”

 

Monty swallowed and nodded.

 

“Fine. You do whatever you need to do. But just know this - You’re making a mistake.”

 

And with that, Monty turned and followed Gabriel out the exit.

 

So much for that.

 

After that day in class, he had been intent on ending this whole farce.

 

He _liked_ Clarke. 

 

He wanted to _date_ her.

 

That could never happen now.

 

Bellamy sighed deeply before swearing and hitting the locker beside him with his palm, the sound of the impact reverberating around the empty room.

 

_Fuck._

 

* * *

  


“I can’t believe I was actually able to convince you to come to another game!” Harper was squealing as Clarke followed her through the crowd of people.

 

She and Monty were officially a thing now and Harper was apparently going all out, wearing a t-shirt she made herself with Monty’s jersey number and last name on the back.

 

Clarke wanted to tease her about it, but honestly the two of them were fucking _adorable._

 

It was nauseating.

 

“Yeah, well. Supportive friend and all that.” Clarke mumbled, side-stepping a girl who wasn’t paying attention and had almost backed into Clarke completely.

 

Add that to the list of reasons why she hated these events. They were _so crowded._  

 

And the number of women in the crowd wearing “Blake” jerseys made her want to simultaneously vomit and also rip them all to shreds.

 

“Sure.” Harper drawled. “And this has nothing to do with a certain senior soccer captain?”

 

She could feel the blush all the way to her toes.

 

“No.” She hissed at her friend who had started to veer off in a different direction. “Where are we going?” She asked, her voice confused. “The bleachers are that way.” She pointed off to the left where they had sat at the last game she had attended.

 

“We’re not going to the bleachers, we’re going to the player’s area.”

 

Clarke stilled watching Harper who was still walking get further away for a second before she moved to catch up with her.

 

“The player’s area? What the hell is that?” Clarke asked, her voice raising in pitch. She had a feeling she knew where this was going.

 

“It’s the special section were friends and families of the players have reserved spots. It’s at the bottom of the bleachers behind the team’s bench.”

 

Clarke groaned, throwing her head back.

 

“Do we _have_ to?”

 

Harper turned, raising her eyebrow at her friend over her shoulder.

 

“You don’t _want_ one of the best seats in the house?”

 

Yes.

 

No.

 

Maybe?

 

No, definitely no.

 

She had been planning to go to this game anonymously, watch Bellamy be all hot and sweaty on the field, and then escape before he ever knew she was there.

 

She had a feeling that would be hard to do in the “Player’s Area.”

 

“I just don’t see that it is strictly necessary to enjoy the game.” She fibbed, hoping Harper didn’t call her on her obvious bullshit.

 

Harper shrugged but kept walking in the same direction.

 

“Well, you’re free to head to the bleachers if you want. I’m sitting in the player’s area.”

 

Clarke huffed, knowing she’d been beaten. 

 

She could see ahead where the reserved area was and saw a crowd of people decked out in black and gold, player jerseys everywhere.

 

She was definitely going to stick out in her White Stripes t-shirt.

 

_Fuck._

 

Worse, she realized as they got closer, there were players hanging out in the area since it was still before the game and they weren’t warming up on the field yet.

 

_Yepp, definitely not getting out of this unnoticed._

 

Especially by Bellamy. It’s like he had a fucking _radar_ on her or some shit.

 

Harper led her up to the reserved area and showed them some sort of badge she had and the guy at the entrance let them through, eyeing Clarke with apparent disgust at her lack of player attire.

 

“Monty was more than happy to give his pass to me.” Harper explained. “Apparently his parents don’t get to come to games very often since they live in California.”

 

They made their way over to a spot that was blessedly toward the back of the section and settled in, Clarke trying her best to hide behind the woman in front of her with a jersey that said _Murphy._

 

“I hope he gets time to come see me before the game!” Harper said excitedly under her breath, looking around at all of the people in the stands.

 

Clarke groaned at the very thought.

 

Not thirty seconds later, the two of them watched as Monty and _Bellamy_ entered the stadium from below the bleachers.

 

She looked on as Monty’s gaze instantly went to the Player’s Area, obviously searching for Harper, before he smiled and waved as he started to make his way over to the section.

 

Clarke also saw the second Bellamy realized Monty was leaving his side and looked up to the player’s section.

 

She tried to look away before he could notice her but it was like their eyes were magnets and his gaze found hers immediately.

 

He smiled, his teeth showing, and quickly followed after Monty, jogging to keep up with his friend.

 

“ _Shit._ ” She muttered sharply.

 

Harper must’ve seen what she did because her friend immediately started laughing.

 

“You should just put the guy out of his misery and say _yes._ ” She said lightly, waving at Monty who was approaching.

 

“I don’t want to say yes” She insisted hotly, biting down on her bottom lip as she refused to look in their direction.

 

“Liar.” Harper countered, knowing better than to continue enabling her best friend’s denial.

 

“Fine. I do.” Clarke admitted. “But I won’t”

 

She could feel Harper’s stare on the side of her face as she looked away toward the end of the field where the scoreboard stood.

 

“Why not?”

 

Clarke scrunched up her face, her eyes jerking to the side for a second, watching Monty and Bellamy get closer.

 

“Because. He’s a womanizer. And a jerk.” She insisted, even if she knew that those were rumors and could very well not be true.

 

“And you know this from personal experience?” Harper questioned.

 

She turned to glare at her friend, frustrated that she kept calling her on her bullshit.

 

“You’re the one who told me this information, you know.”

 

Harper chuckled, shrugging.

 

“So? It doesn’t really mean much since it’s conjecture. Besides, maybe he actually _likes_ you. You’ll never actually know unless you say yes.”

 

“Hey!” Monty’s voice interrupted their conversation and Harper rose, excited, and stepped over Clarke to get to her boyfriend.

 

“Hey! You’re going to be so great!” She squealed, hugging Monty close and kissing him on the cheek sweetly.

 

Clarke’s small smile couldn’t be helped. They were cute, damn it.

 

“Nauseating, yeah?” A voice came and she started when she felt Bellamy plop down on the bench to her right.

 

“You? Absolutely.” 

 

She could feel his laugh, his arm brushing against hers as he chuckled.

 

“And yet, here you are. At my soccer game.” He threw back at her and she refused to look at him, to give him the satisfaction of being right.

 

“I’m a good friend, what can I say.” She said, her voice pouty at him catching her there.

 

She hated it when her plans didn’t go according to…. Well, plan.

 

And Bellamy knowing she was here _definitely_ wasn’t part of her plan.

 

“I’m sure you are, but we both know that’s not why you’re here.”

 

She couldn’t help but turn to glare at him then, and it was instantly a mistake.

 

Being this close to him in his soccer uniform was doing terrible things to her self discipline.

 

“Don’t flatter yourself.” She mumbled, her eyes dropping unceremoniously to his lips.

 

“Go with me to the party this weekend”

 

“I’m not- _What?_ ” She squeaked.

 

His right hand lifted and he used his fingers to comb through his hair, pushing his curls from his eyes so she could see them better.

 

“There’s a party this weekend for the soccer team. At our apartment. Go with me.”

 

_Oh God._

 

She wanted to. She wanted to _so badly._

 

“I told you I don’t want to date you.” She said instead, holding tight to her story.

 

He held his hands up in a gesture of surrender.

 

“So it’s not a date then. Just hanging out. At my apartment. With me and 50 of my friends.”

 

He made it sound so tempting, honestly. She could go to the party, hang out with him and not call it a date. It would just be an invite to a party like the hundred other parties she’d attended in college.

 

“Harper’s going, I’m sure.” He added, obviously trying to sweeten the deal. “Come on, Princess. Come to my party.” He murmured, leaning in close, his hair falling in front of his eyes once more.

 

His eyes were imploring her, soft and sincere, and she was finding herself having an even harder time telling him no.

 

“I-” She hesitated. “I don’t like parties.”

 

She was caving, even _she_ knew it.

 

Bellamy opened his mouth to rebuttal when Monty’s voice interrupted.

 

“Dude, we gotta go, come on. They’re running the field.”

 

Bellamy’s eyebrows furrowed and he sighed before leaning in close, his forehead almost touching her own as he looked her in the eyes.

 

“This isn’t over.”

 

And then he was gone, he and Monty headed toward the field.

 

She felt Harper plop down in her seat once more, filling the space to Clarke’s left and leaving her feeling the void of Bellamy to her right even more.

 

“And here I thought you came to this game for _me._ ” Harper snarked, teasing her, her eyebrow lifting in silent challenge.

 

Clarke crossed her arms over her chest, refusing to give her the satisfaction of a response.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The game was over and they’d won easily, in spite of Bellamy’s multiple slip ups.

 

He hated himself, he really did.

 

Sitting beside Clarke on that bleacher was so easy, teasing her, convincing her to give him a shot.

 

He heated himself because he _meant_ it. Every word of it. And she was starting to cave, he could see it in her eyes.

 

It was the worst feeling in the world when it _should’ve_ been the best.

 

His eyes drifted to a blonde head that was making its way down to the field, his body immediately recognizing her, even from a distance.

 

“Ahhh! You did so good, baby!” Harper screamed, tackle hugging a sweaty Monty.

 

He watched Clarke stand awkwardly off to the side and he slowly made his way over, flicking his sweaty curls out of his eyes.

 

“And where’s my hug?” He asked, teasing, holding his hands out in invitation.

 

She rolled her eyes and it made him like her even more.

 

She was just so _different._  

 

He wanted to know everything about her.

 

 _Stop it._ He scolded himself. _It’s not going to happen._

 

“You did okay. You did better last time.” She shrugged.

 

_Yeah, well, I was too busy feeling guilty to concentrate this time._

 

“Ouch.” He said instead, wincing, holding a hand to his chest. “That hurt.”

 

She laughed lightly and it was like a bolt to the chest. He’d never heard her laugh. Especially not at _him._

 

He loved it. He wanted to hear it more, everyday even.

 

“I would apologize but I have a feeling you appreciate my honesty more than if I were to lie to you.” She responded.

 

He inhaled quietly, her words really hitting home.

 

She was right, he did appreciate her honesty.

 

Much like she would probably appreciate his.

 

“Clarke.” He paused. “I-”

 

“Hey man, we better go. Locker rooms will shut down soon.” Monty said, coming up behind him and placing a hand on his shoulder.

 

He nodded at his friend and started to walk away, defeated, but suddenly, her voice stopped him.

 

“Bellamy!”

 

He stopped instantly, turning around to face the petite blonde who was walking up to him, his eyes drinking in the sway of her hips and the small smile on her face.

 

“Fine.” She said. “I’ll go to your stupid party.”

 

His chest tightened, first in excitement and then in dread as he realized what that meant.

 

“But only because you did so fucking badly today, I figure you need something to cheer you up.” She smirked.

 

His lips tilted slightly, smiling in spite of the intense dread he was feeling.

 

“As friends, right?” He asked, holding his hand out for her to shake.

 

She lifted an eyebrow, stepping forward to shake it.

 

“We’ll see.” She said quietly, her voice betraying her nerves.

 

He wanted to smile, to tease her about it and be happy that she had finally said yes.

 

Instead, all her could hear in his mind was Gabriel’s voice, taunting him. Reminding him that he could never have her now, not the way he really wanted.

 

Suddenly, she was pulled away by a smiling Harper. 

 

He watched them walk in the direction of the gate but not before Clarke turned to look over her shoulder, blonde hair around her shoulders as she smiled broadly in his direction.

 

“Bellamy.” Monty’s voice came from behind him. “What the _fuck_ are you doing, man?”

 

He swore, running his hands through his hair, his guilt eating him alive. He turned, moving swiftly to the locker room, avoiding an answer altogether.

 

“Let’s go.” He growled as he passed his friend, refusing to look him in the eye.

 

* * *

  


“Yeah, yeah, I know. Do you really think I’m dumb enough to walk alone across campus after dark, dad? I’m not some freshman.” Clarke mumbled loud enough for her dad to hear.

 

She was glaring across the room at her dad’s face that was propped up on her bed, the bright glare of her laptop even brighter in the dim lighting of her dorm room.

 

He sighed.

 

“I know that, but your _sister_ Clarke. I worry about her. She’s not like you. She’s not level-headed and thinking with her brain. I need you to look after her.”

 

She stuffed her notepad in the drawer of her desk before turning to face her dad once more.

 

“I _am_ , dad. What more do you want from me?”

 

At that moment, the door to her dorm room rattled, the door knob shaking as someone on the other side worked to undo the lock.

 

Clarke lived alone, so that meant the presence on the other side could only be the one person who had a key to her room.

 

“YOU SAID YES!” Josephine squealed, running into the room and hugging Clarke tightly.

 

The breath left Clarke in a quick exhale as she obviously had not been expecting to be bombarded by the little hurricane.

 

“I’m sorry - What?” Clarke asked through the tight squeeze of her sister’s arms.

 

“YOU SAID YES AND YOU DIDN’T CALL ME!” Her sister squealed into her chest before she backed away to look Clarke in the face. “Were you trying to _hide_ it from me? Because that’s not fair. Besides, it’s _Bellamy_ , did you really think I wouldn’t hear about it?”

 

She inhaled quickly, her eyes darting to her dad’s confused face on her computer screen.

 

_Fuck._

 

Josephine.

 

She’d completely forgotten.

 

“Clarke, sweetie, what’s she talking about?” Her dad asked, his voice tinged with worry.

 

“Clarke is going on a date, daddy!” Josephine explained, jumping up and down.

 

“Wait!” Clarke interjected, her finger in the air. “It’s not a date!”

 

Josephine turned to her, rolling her eyes.

 

“Of _course_ it’s a date. Bellamy Blake asked you to come to his party and you said _yes._ ” She explained to Clarke as if she was a small child who didn’t know any better.

 

“As _friends._ ” Clarke insisted.

 

Josephine snorted.

 

“Whatever, Bellamy Blake doesn’t do _friends._ He doesn’t even do-”

 

“Excuse me.” Her dad spoke from the computer. “Clarke, explain please. You’re going to a party?”

 

She swallowed down her immediately refusal, knowing she had been caught and must tell the truth.

 

“Yeah. But it’s just a party. It’s not a date or anything.”

 

Josephine jumped in front of her then.

 

“No way, daddy! A boy asked her and she said yes. Therefore, in line with your rule, that means should a boy ask _me_ to that party, I can say ‘yes’ too!”

 

Clarke gulped, knowing her dad didn’t really have an out here.

 

“Well.” He started. “I guess, if that’s really what happened-” He looked to Clarke who confirmed her story with a sad nod. “Then I guess you can go to the party.”

 

Josephine screamed and started racing around the room in circles.

 

“BUT!” Her dad interrupted her party. “You will go to and from the party with your sister.”

 

Josephine stopped immediately, her mouth opening in horror.

 

“But- What?! Dad! That’s not fair!”

 

“Life’s not fair, Josephine. That’s the deal, take it or leave it.”

 

Clarke sighed and leaned back against her desk, not sure whether she was grateful for her dad’s meddling or not.

 

The prospect of riding to and from a party with Bellamy was tempting.

 

 _Too_ tempting.

 

It was probably for the best that she would be riding in a car with her sister instead.

 

She cursed, mentally angry with herself for even saying _yes_ in the first place.

 

If she couldn’t handle a stupid car ride with him, how the _hell_ was she supposed to handle beng around him at a house party where beer would be flowing and beds would be available?

 

_Shit._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thus, "we're all fucked."
> 
> Hope you liked this chapter!
> 
> These two are SO MUCH FUN TO WRITE and I think you can tell.
> 
> As I said, there are two more installments to this little re-imagining and they will post on the next two Wednesdays.
> 
> Leave me a comment and let me know your thoughts!
> 
> And come talk to me on Twitter @MallidayWrites.
> 
> Until Sunday (FOR THE EPILOGUE OF MINDLESS DREAMING)...
> 
> -Mally


	3. You’re Just Too Good To Be True

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 3 has arrived!
> 
> Hope you enjoy!
> 
>  
> 
> See you on the flip side ;)

**Part 3 - You’re Just Too Good To Be True**

 

 

“If, for whatever reason, I cannot find you when it’s time to leave, I reserve the right to call dad and let him know immediately.” Clarke said, her voice grumbling as they descended the stairs of the dorm to the parking lot below.

 

“You know, for someone who’s going on a date with a notorious playboy, and I say ‘date’ loosely, you sure are acting all high and mighty.” Josephine snarled, pushing past Clarke and walking to the passenger side door of the car.

 

Clarke rolled her eyes, leaning against the driver’s side door and unlocking the vehicle.

 

“It’s not even remotely close to a date.” She insisted. “He’s a friend who invited me to a party.  _ You _ get to go on a technicality because he’d asked me out previously. That doesn’t actually make this a date.”

 

Josephine huffed, leaning back against the seat and buckling her seatbelt.

 

“Whatever. Say whatever you want to dad, but I know better. Bellamy Blake doesn’t have friends that are  _ girls. _ ”

 

Clarke sighed, pushing the button to start the car and looking in the rearview mirror to ensure that the lot was clear before she pulled out.

 

The whole night was just starting off  _ splendidly. _

 

She didn’t know  _ why _ she had agreed to go to this party. Honestly, she blamed it on Bellamy and his stupid charming smile and how much they, inexplicably, seemed to have in common.

 

She hadn’t had even a small amount of interest in someone in almost a year and this whole thing just took her by surprise.

 

Did she  _ like _ Bellamy? Or did she just  _ like _ Bellamy?

 

They really did have a lot in common.

 

But with her living in the art building and him living on the soccer field, it wasn’t surprising that they’d never actually met.

 

He also had a reputation that she was more than aware of, but for whatever reason, she didn’t believe it was all true.

 

She couldn’t explain it, really, but he didn’t seem  _ anything _ like she had initially expected.

 

Sure, during half of their conversations, he had been a flipping jackass, but those times like before the soccer game, he had seemed… genuine. Interested.

 

It was  _ beyond _ confusing.

 

But that wasn’t what this party was about. She was going to go, have a beer, chat with Harper, Monty, and Bellamy, and then leave before her little sister could find herself in a bad situation with some rich mama’s boy.

 

The apartment building was just ahead and she could see tons of cars parked outside, some with wheels edging the grass as the owners made their own parking places.

 

“Oo! There’s one over there!” Josephine said, pointing to an empty space just across the parking lot.

 

Clarke swung the vehicle into the space and killed the engine. 

 

Josephine was immediately out of her seatbelt and out of the car, heading toward the apartment building.

 

Clarke sighed, taking her time getting out before turning to lock the doors.

 

Lord forbid she get robbed while she spends the evening pretending not to have burgeoning feelings for the resident campus soccer star.

 

Walking up the stoop through the front door, she immediately started climbing the stairs to the third story, where she had been told the party would be taking place from Harper.

 

She struggled to control her breathing as she opened the door on the third floor landing, trying not to overthink the fact that she was about to see Bellamy’s apartment.

 

It was just an apartment, for fuck’s sake.

 

_ Yeah. Bellamy’s apartment. _

 

She mentally glared at her subconscious and trudged forward toward the sound of music echoing down the hallway. When she arrived at the right door, she reached out and pushed it open, the music now louder than before, but not loud enough to get them cited for a noise complaint.

 

There were a lot of people. A lot more than she would’ve ever expected to fit into a two bedroom apartment.

 

Bellamy’s apartment was  _ amazing _ . There was a huge front open space where the kitchen, living, and dining rooms were all connected and large windows that overlooked downtown.

 

The apartment building was once an old factory that had been renovated into living spaces and Clarke was instantly in love.

 

She mentally made a note to apply for one of these apartments next year.

 

“Took your time, I see.”

 

She jumped at the sound of Bellamy’s voice coming from right behind her. 

 

Swiveling around, her hand flew to her neck as she gasped in surprise.

 

His eyebrows furrowed and he laughed lightly.

 

“One of these days, I feel like you’re not going to jump everytime I try and talk to you.”

 

She narrowed her eyes but upon seeing his playful look, she melted a little and laughed as well.

 

“Yeah, maybe. One day. Maybe if you made more noise when you moved.” She said, tilting her head to the side as she pretended to study him.

 

His eyebrow rose and he smiled.

 

“So I should like… wear bells or some shit?” He asked, laughter buried in his tone.

 

She studied him a moment longer before shaking her head.

 

“Hmm no, maybe not bells. Maybe… chimes?”

 

He laughed outright then.

 

“Chimes? That’s better? Really? Maybe you should just be more aware of your surroundings, Princess.”

 

She grinned, reaching out to push against his chest.

 

“Maybe you should just stop trying to talk to me.”

 

She watched his face fall slightly before he quickly recovered, shaking his head.

 

“Not a chance.”

 

She wondered then at that hidden facial expression. Did he really think she wanted him to stop talking to her?   
  


“Clarke!” She heard Harper’s voice call from the other side of the room.

 

Both she and Bellamy looked up, spotting her friend in the distance. 

 

She lifted her hand to wave and Bellamy cleared his throat.

 

“Come on. Let’s go make sure she and Monty haven’t given away all the booze yet.” Bellamy said lowly, his left hand moving to the small of her back to guide her across the room.

 

Her breath hitched and she looked up to see him looking straight ahead, seemingly unbothered by the small bit of contact.

 

Meanwhile, her heart was racing a thousand miles an hour.

 

She was definitely in trouble.

 

“I’m so glad you decided to come in spite of the Josie thing.” Harper said as she approached, reaching out to pull her into a hug.

 

“The Josie thing?” Bellamy asked as Harper settled back into Monty’s side.

 

Harper rolled her eyes but snuggled in closer to Monty.

 

“Her little sister. Her dad has this rule. Josie can’t date unless Clarke does, so naturally, Josie jumped at the chance to come to the party.”

 

Clarke’s eyes widened and she choked somewhat.

 

“Not that this is a date!” She said quickly, a little breathless, as her eyes shot to Bellamy’s. “She just got permission to come to the party since I was coming too.”

 

Bellamy was smiling but it looked a little strained and she mentally cursed Harper for even bringing it up.

 

“Uh, yeah. Got ya.” He said, taking a sip of the beer he had grabbed from the fridge beside Monty.

 

He held up one for her as well and she took it immediately, downing a large portion of it in one gulp.

 

The party went a little more according to how parties usually went after that initial awkwardness. She and Blelamy hung around Monty and Harper for a long time before they were left alone on the balcony outside, the sounds of the city street below loud even at the late hour.

 

At that point, Clarke could honestly say she was wasted. Having consumed a lot more alcohol than she had in a very long time. She hadn’t meant to, of course, but she was so nervous being around Bellamy’s easy going attitude and charming smile. It was entirely disarming, being so unequivocally attracted to someone the way she was to Bellamy.

 

Even now, the two of them sitting in their own iron chairs outside, listening to the cars drive by and the sounds of ambulance sirens in the distance, she couldn’t help but tilt her head in his direction and watch him watch the city.

 

“It’s rude to stare, you know.” He teased, finally turning to face her as well, a small tilt of his lips showing his amusement.

 

She smiled.

 

“I know.”

 

She continued to stare, secretly wondering if she was making him as uncomfortable as she felt, her feelings for him coming at the worst possible time.

 

Other than the whole Josie thing or the fact that he was apparently some major man-ho, he was a senior. Meaning he would be leaving at the end of this year to God knows where and she would still be here, two more years of college to go.

 

This couldn’t end well.

 

“And yet, you continue.” He said, his smile intact.

 

She sighed and looked away, her eyes finding the stars above them, visible even with the lights of the city.

 

“You confuse me.” She admitted, her eyes still studying the constellations, unwilling to say what she wanted to say to his face. “You’re-”

 

She paused.

 

“You’re the worst.” She concluded.

 

She heard him snort and then laugh once, a loud, surprised laugh.

 

“You like to stare at me because I’m the worst?” He asked, obviously amused.

 

She grinned, turning to stare in his direction once more.

 

“Yeah. See, I wasn’t looking for anything. Especially a senior with a reputation for loving and leaving. I’m an artist, I should be concentrating on my work.” She sighed, her eyes watching the subtle changes to his expression, carefully masked. “But instead I’m here, at some party, when I don’t even  _ like _ parties, all because there was a chance I might see you.”

 

Bellamy’s face stayed the same and she was so frustrated, her alcohol addled inhibition annoyed that he was apparently sober enough to hide his reaction to her words.

 

She stood then, swaying slightly, and walked to the metal railing, looking down at the people passing below.

 

“Woah there, Princess.” His deep voice said, his hands landing on her waist and squeezing, making sure she didn’t accidentally fall off the balcony in her drunken stupor.

 

She giggled, turning around in his arms and leaning against the metal rail, the hard iron digging into her spine as she looked up into his eyes.

 

“My knight in shining armor.” She murmured, her eyes betraying her and dropping to his lips as his tongue darted out to wet them.

 

“I don’t know about that. Just making sure you don’t hurt yourself. I don’t need that on my conscience.”

 

She laughed lightly, her eyes darting to his once more.

 

“Mmhmm.” She hummed, her hands reaching up to wrap around his neck, her fingers playing with the hair at the nape. “Because you’d miss me.”

 

She watched his adam’s apple bob as he swallowed.

 

“Maybe.” He admitted. “Or maybe I just don’t want to face the wrath of Harper.”

 

Clarke grinned, her teeth showing as she stepped in closer, her chest flush against his.

 

“You don’t fool me, Bellamy Blake.” She said, her voice low as she looked up at his face.

 

“No?” He whispered.

 

“No.” She answered.

 

And at that moment, she couldn’t help it. Later, she would blame her state of inebriation, but when she reached up to press her lips against his, she had never felt more sober or more sure of her decision.

 

Except it never happened.

 

At the last second, Bellamy turned his face away and her lips landed on his cheek instead.

 

She opened her eyes and stepped away, giving him a confused stare as she watched him back away slowly, his hands running through his hair nervously.

 

“Bellamy?” She asked, her buzz instantly gone at the unexpected rejection.

 

“We should get you home.” Was his response and it definitely wasn’t the one she was looking for.

 

She was suddenly irrationally angry and she couldn’t completely blame it on the alcohol. After all the times he’d asked her out, she’d finally accepted and laid herself out there and then what?

 

He had changed his mind or some shit?

 

She cursed at herself for even allowing herself to be in this situation in the first place.

 

Marching past him to the door leading inside, she wrenched it open and threw herself into the throng of people.

 

“Clarke!” She could hear Bellamy call after her as she made her way through the party, searching for her sister.

 

When she finally found her, Josie was in the corner with some guy and was batting her eyelashes playfully.

 

“We’re leaving.” She all but growled, pulling her away by her forearm to the front door.

 

“Wait! What? Now??? Really, Clarke?” Josephine said, her voice high and shrieky. 

 

She ignored her sister’s protests as she made it to the door.

 

“Clarke, wait!”

 

“ _ Fuck. _ ” She mumbled, turning around to face Bellamy who had found her in the chaos.

 

“Clarke, wait. Don’t leave. Listen, I-”

 

“No!” Clarke said, exasperated. “I get it, Bellamy, I do. I should’ve just listened to myself the first time and we wouldn’t even be in this mess. Don’t worry, I won’t come around again.”

 

And with that she threw open the door and pulled Josie with her.

 

Bellamy, to his credit did call her name once more, but she was gone and he wisely didn’t follow her.

 

“What was  _ that _ all about?” Josephine asked once they made it to the parking lot.

 

“Don’t worry about it.” Clarke mumbled throwing her keys to her sister.

 

Josephine rolled her eyes.

 

“I can’t believe you got wasted.” She admonished Clarke. “You’re only 20, you know, technically you could get arrested.”

 

Clarke chuckled humorlessly and flung herself in the passenger’s seat.

 

“Well, it’s a good thing you were the well-behaved sister tonight, then.”

 

She winced at the comment and knew it wasn’t fair, but she was too drunk and too hurt to feel much worse about it.

 

She’d apologize in the morning.

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


Bellamy was  _ so  _ angry.

 

With himself, with the whole fucking situation.

 

Monty had been trying to console him all afternoon, trying to help him carry his equipment to the field and offering to take him out for a drink after practice.

 

But Bellamy didn’t  _ want _ to be comforted. He didn’t deserve it.

 

The night before, he had been  _ so  _ happy to see Clarke arrive that for a second, he forgot their whole twisted circumstance.

 

He forgot that the only reason he even asked her out in the first place was because someone offered him money.

 

_ But wouldn’t you have anyways? _ His mind reasoned.

 

It was true.

 

Before Gabriel even mentioned the money, he had been interested in Clarke.

 

She was  _ beautiful _ . And the way she had put him in his place satisfied him in a way he hadn’t felt in a long time. For years, he’d felt  _ nothing _ about anyone, so to come across someone who made him  _ feel  _ so intensely made him instantly aware of her.

 

And then he went and fucked it all up.

 

And for what?

 

Money?

 

For the first time, he met someone who challenged him, who didn’t bow down to him or his status on campus. Someone who liked him for who he was instead of what he could offer them.

 

He deserved to be miserable.

 

Slamming his locker shut, he watched Monty jump slightly at the unexpected loud noise.

 

“Geez, Bellamy. Could you not?”

 

“Sorry.” He mumbled, shoving his head in the collar of his practice jersey.

 

“Well done, Blake.”

 

He stopped moving instantly, his muscles, already tense, coiled and ready to turn around and punch that motherfucker in the face.

 

He ignored Gabriel and continued to get ready.

 

“It was nice seeing Josie outside of class last night. So I think I wanna ask her to the athletic formal - Any chance you can get her sister to go?”

 

His teeth clenched as he fought to maintain control. he felt Monty’s hand rest on his shoulder from behind him as he fumbled around inside his sport bag.

 

Sighing, he sat the bag down and finally turned to face the asshat.

 

“Not interested.” Was all he said.

 

Gabriel rolled his eyes.

 

“This again? Honestly, just name your price and let’s get this over with already. Here’s the money for last night.”

 

He watched the other man lift his hand, an envelope marked with his name on it resting in his clutch.

 

Bellamy’s jaw ticked only for a second before he responded.

 

“Keep it.”

 

He turned away from him then and threw all his stuff in his bag before opening his locker to stow it away until after practice.

 

Gabriel chuckled behind him.

 

“Oh, I see. I saw you and Clarke at the party. What? You fuck her? And now you don’t want the money?”

 

“Dude-” Monty started to speak to Gabriel but it was too late as Bellamy wheeled around, his fist flying into the other man’s face.

 

He watched with satisfaction as Gabriel crumbled to the ground, clutching his jaw in his hand.

 

“What the hell, Blake!” He shouted.

 

Bellamy shook out his hand, a little sore from the contact before crouching to face Gabriel on the ground.

 

“If you  _ ever  _ talk about Clarke  _ or  _ her sister like that  _ ever again _ , I promise you, this will end a lot more painfully for you than that.”

 

With that, Bellamy stood and made his way to the exit, striding out toward the soccer field.

 

“Bellamy!” Monty called after him, racing to catch up. “Wait up!”

 

Bellamy slowed so that his friend could walk beside him.

 

“What was that?” Monty asked, still breathless after he was walking in pace with Bellamy once more.

 

Bellamy shook his head.

 

“I couldn’t just- Let him talk about her like that.”

 

Monty didn’t say anything for a few seconds before he responded.

 

“Yeah, I get that. So… what now, then?”

 

Bellamy swallowed, unsure of even how to answer that.

 

“I don’t know.”

 

Monty turned to look at him as they approached the field.

 

“I mean- Do you  _ like _ her then? Like really like her? Like you wanna go out with her?”

 

He thought about that for a second before deciding it was best to just be honest with his best friend.

 

“Yeah. Yeah, I do. But I think I’ve fucked that up now.”

 

Monty sighed and shrugged.

 

“Maybe. But I’m gonna bet you can still make it up to her. She’s a nice girl. She might understand about last night once you tell her about the Gabriel thing.”

 

Bellamy stopped walking , his eyes flashing toward Monty’s, panicked.

 

“What?”

 

Monty’s brows knit together.

 

“You  _ are  _ going to tell her about Gabriel, right? Dude, you can’t date her without telling her. You know it will come back to bite you in the ass some day. Your whole relationship would be based on a lie.”

 

Bellamy pulled at the bottom of his jersey nervously, considering Monty’s words.

 

“It wouldn’t be a lie, really. Just an omission. And I didn’t take the money.”

 

Monty’s eyes widened.

 

“Bellamy, dude, that doesn’t matter. Omission  _ is a lie. _ You don’t think she would be pissed one day, down the road, to find out that the only reason you asked her out was for money?”

 

Bellamy swallowed, shaking his head.

 

“No, I would’ve asked her out. I would’ve. Gabriel just came around first.”

 

The sound of the scoreboard wailing in the distance told them practice had started and they both turned to look in the direction of the field.

 

“Listen.” Money started. “I can’t tell you what to do. But if you don’t tell her, it won’t end well. You still have a chance to recover from this but you have to be  _ honest,  _ Bellamy.”

 

And with that, Monty took off, running toward where the team had undoubtedly already running around the field.

 

Bellamy looked after him, pushing his hair back and out of his face, pondering his options.

 

What the  _ fuck _ was he supposed to do?

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


Clarke huffed as she made her way down the steps of the art building to the grassy courtyard outside, the sound of 90s angry-girl alternative rock blaring from her AirPods.

 

It had been two days since the party and as she looked around at all the happy people in the quad, sitting on the grass and laying in hammocks, she wanted to scream. 

 

Or maybe push said people out of their hammocks.

 

When she’d woken up the day before, memories of the party came rushing back to her and she was more embarrassed than she had been before.

 

She was never drinking again.

 

Luckily for her, she and Bellamy had never run into one another before  _ for a reason. _

 

There was no reason for them to see one another.

 

She nervously looked around the quad, hoping he wasn’t around the one place where she might feasibly run into him, and exhaled when she didn’t see him.

 

He hadn’t been in her Life Drawing class the evening before either. A new model had taken his place and while they weren’t  _ nearly _ as enjoyable to look at, she’d still been able to concentrate on the artistic aspects of the practice more than she had been with Bellamy.

 

Her phone buzzed on her hip and she pulled it out of her pocket without thinking much about it, but her eyes narrowed in confusion at what she found.

 

**(828) 238-9382** _ I’m sorry. _

 

What the fuck? Did someone have the wrong number?

 

**(828) 238-9382** _ And no, this isn’t a wrong number. It’s me, Bellamy. _

 

She sucked in a surprised breath, stopping in her trek across campus, the music still blaring through her headphones.

 

Suddenly, the phone in her hand started ringing, what she now knew to be Bellamy’s number flashed across the screen.

 

_ Oh God. _

 

He was  _ calling _ her? What the fuck was she supposed to do?

 

Her finger swiped across the screen before she could properly think it through and suddenly, she had picked up the call and she had to speak.

 

“Uh-Um-Hello?” She stuttered, her headphones picking up the call.

 

“Hello, Princess.”

 

She looked around the quad, stupidly searching, for him or for a familiar face of support, she wasn’t sure.

 

“How the hell did you get my number?”

 

She could hear him chuckle through the headphone speakers.

 

“Really?” He asked.

 

Sighing, she rolled her eyes.

 

“Harper.”

 

“Don’t be mad at her. She just wanted to give me a chance to explain myself.”

 

Clarke shoved her phone back in her pocket and crossed her arms over her chest.

 

“Explain yourself? You have nothing to explain.”

 

“I think I do.” He countered and she bit down on her bottom lip, wondering what possible explanation he could have for turning her down.

 

“I don’t think so. It’s no big deal, Bellamy.” She said, her voice tired.

 

“It is to me.” He reasoned and she wanted to believe him so badly.

 

“Oh? So much so that you had to pity trip my best friend into giving you my phone number?”

 

“Well it seemed easier than camping out at the bottom of the steps of the art building.”

 

She hated that he was so charming.

 

It made her simultaneously want to punch him in the face and jump on top of his dick.

 

_ Asshole. _

 

“Back to the stalking, I see.” She snarked and to her dismay, he laughed.

 

“Only you, Princess.”

 

“What do you want, Bellamy?” She asked, exasperated.

 

“I want you to give me another chance. So I can explain myself and so I can take you out properly.”

 

She scoffed into the thin autumn air.

 

“Again? We’ve been through this and what happened? I completely humiliated myself, Bellamy. I had a drunken patio confession where you completely shut me down. So, until you somehow find a way to top that on the embarrassment scale, I don’t want to hear it.”

 

“Those are your terms?”

 

She shook her head quickly, staring stupidly at some spot on the side of the building, unsure of what he was talking about.

 

“I’m sorry, what?” She asked.

 

“Are those your terms? If I somehow embarrass myself more than you did at the party? You’ll give me another chance?”

 

Her mouth was hanging open stupidly.

 

“I-It’s not possible, Bellamy.”

 

“Done.” He responded and then suddenly the call cut off.

 

She hastily pulled the headphones from her ears and turned in circles, looking around the quad, thinking maybe he was watching her from somewhere in the crowd, finding amusement from her befuddlement.

 

What the fuck was  _ that _ about?

  
  
  


\-------

  
  
  


“I can’t believe I’m here again.” Clarke mumbled later that evening as she and Harper settled into the Player’s Area at the soccer game.

 

She had fully been intending to avoid the soccer game, but Harper wasn’t having it, literally showing up at her dorm room and throwing clothes at her until she was dressed and pushed out the door.

 

Not only that, but somehow, inexplicably, she hadn’t realized that the Wake Soccer t-shirt she was wearing had Bellamy’s name and number on the back until they were at the game and some rando complimented her on the shirt.

 

She’d wanted to change immediately but Harper ignored her completely and told her there was no time.

 

So here she was, yet again, at another soccer game, this one later in the evening, the sun setting on the skyline.

 

Only, now she was wearing a BLAKE T-shirt.

 

And she just wanted to die, honestly.

 

The first part of the game passed uneventfully, Bellamy and the rest of the team playing top notch soccer and she failed miserably at containing her cheering.

 

Too bad he couldn’t play a more boring sport.

 

Like golf.

 

She felt like she could stand there and act angry if she were at a golf match.

 

By the time half-time rolled around, she was already feeling a little lighter, the adrenaline of the game making her happier than she wanted to be.

 

“See?” Harper said, elbowing her lightly in the side. “Now aren’t you glad you came?”

 

She shrugged, refusing to give her friend an affirmative.

 

It was hard to sulk with a friend like Harper who simply wouldn’t allow it.

 

The marching band filed out onto the field, getting in formation as they readied themselves to play the half-time show.

 

The three drum majors took their places on their assigned pedestals and she waited patiently, along with the rest of the crowd, to see the spectacle.

 

It was a good show. She’d seen it several times now. It was some medley of early 2000’s hits and their footwork was spot on.

 

She had several friends in the marching band and she loved getting to see them shine.

 

When they started, she immediately realized that this was going to be a different show, the music was slow and jazzy, full, in an orchestral way, and she realized with a jolt that they were playing Frank Sinatra.

 

“Some day, when I’m awfully low..” A voice started singing along with the heavy big band music and she and everyone else started to look around the stadium for the voice without a face. Her heart started beating faster as it recognized quickly what her brain had yet to process.

 

“When the world is cold, I will feel a glow just thinking of you…” It continued and suddenly she heard gasps all around the stadium. Clarke looked up, her eyes finally catching the bright spotlight, shining against the night sky, that was beaming down on the man who was singing. “And the way you look tonight.”

 

It was Bellamy.

 

And he was at the bottom of the Player’s area, light shining down on his middle-of-the-game sweaty body, still breathing a little heavily as he sang his heart out, his eyes fixed on where she was sitting.

 

_ Oh my God. _

 

She was hyperventilating.

 

One hundred percent.

 

_ What is he doing?? _

 

“Yes, you’re lovely, with your smile so warm and your cheeks so soft, there is nothing for me, but to love you and the way you look tonight.”

 

He was still singing, slowly making his way up the bleachers, the spotlight following his every step and she realized with a start that he was heading in her direction.

 

“Lovely, never ever change. Keep that breathless charm. Won’t you please arrange it? Cause I love you and the way you look tonight.”

 

He was at the end of her row now, people standing up and letting him pass as he made his way down the row to where she was sitting.

 

She could feel Harper’s grip on her thigh, the blood flow there having long since stopped as he best friend  _ lost _ it internally, she was sure.

 

“Mm, mm. Mm, mm. Just the way you look tonight.”

 

He’d finally reached her, Harper all but jumping on the person behind them to give Bellamy the space he needed to stand beside her.

 

She wasn’t breathing, she realized.

 

With Bellamy standing in front of her, still tired from the game, singing his heart out to a fucking  _ marching band _ , how the hell was she supposed to breathe?

 

She vaguely registered the noise of the crowd as they cheered in the background.

 

“Well?” He breathed, obviously winded from the playing and the performance.

 

“Hmm?” She asked, her eyes hooded.

 

She honestly should’ve been annoyed at the way he chuckled at her obvious lack of brain function, but all she could muster in the emotions department was arousal on a totally different level.

 

“Is this enough? Is this high enough on the embarrassment scale?”

 

And suddenly, she realized why he’d done it.

 

To put them on a level playing field.

 

She’d confessed her growing feelings for him to  _ him _ , yes, but he’d confessed it to  _ her _ , the entire student body, all the guests, faculty, and everyone else watching on television.

 

She smiled.

 

“Yeah.” She breathed, her grin matching his. “Yeah, this is good.”

 

He leaned forward then, planting a kiss on her cheek.

 

“Glad to hear it.” He murmured.

 

She swallowed, vaguely aware of the girls two rows behind them filming this entire exchange on their cell phones.

 

“Shouldn’t you- Uh-” She started and waved her hands around toward the field where the soccer players had started coming back out of the locker room.

 

Bellamy chuckled, his hand tucking her hair behind her ear.

 

“Trying to get rid of me already, Princess?”

 

She shook her head.

 

“No, no. Just-” She bit down on her bottom lip, her eyes flickering to his lips. “I just like watching you play.”

 

His grin fell and his eyes suddenly looked much darker, feral almost and full of promise.

 

“Is that so?”

 

She nodded.

 

“Alright, alright, lover boy. Go play now, please, before your coach has to march up here himself.” Harper said, her voice loud and obviously amused.

 

Bellamy shook his head and then he was good again, his face light, but still aroused.

 

“I’ll see you after the game.” He promised.

 

And then he was gone.

 

Once he was down on the field, Harper gave her a hard side eye.

 

“Mmmhmmm.” Harper mused.

 

“Shut up.” Clarke grumbled.

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


Once the game was over, Bellamy and company the victors, Clarke and Harper made their way to the field.

 

After Bellamy’s little half-time performance, Clarke had been stopped several times by people she didn’t know , asking about her and Bellamy’s relationship.

 

This was what it would be like, she internally reasoned, if she and Bellamy were to become a “thing.”

 

Random people would presume they could ask questions about their relationship because Bellamy was a very public figure on campus.

 

But as she reached the bottom of the stairs and looked up to see Bellamy grinning at her across the field, she suddenly found herself caring a lot less.

 

“Hey.” He said softly as she approached.

 

“Hey.” She returned, her shy breathy tone a total embarrassment.

 

“So, uh-” He scratched the back of his neck nervously. “It occurred to me at one point that the whole half-time thing might make you even  _ more _ mad, so uh- I’m glad it didn’t.”

 

She smiled, her teeth catching her bottom lip.

 

“Yeah, I guess I’ll let it pass this time. Since I’m sure it was much more embarrassing for you than it was for me.”

 

When her eyes found his, her heart leapt to realize that he had been staring at her lips.

 

“Uh-Yeah.” He stuttered. “So. About that date.”

 

Clarke chuckled, her hands going to her hips.

 

“Already cashing in, huh?” She teased.

 

He actually looked kind of nervous and it made Clarke want to burrow into his chest and never leave.

 

“Well, there’s this formal thing coming up. It’s for the athletic department. I’ll be getting an award. I was kind of hoping you’d be my date.”

 

Suddenly, flashes of the last time she went to a formal drifted through her thoughts and she stopped breathing momentarily.

 

“Clarke?” Bellamy’s voice brought her back to the present and she swallowed deeply.

 

“Um. I’m not really a big fan of those types of events.” She said, her voice pretty even, considering the way her mind was racing.

 

“Oh.” Bellamy seemed especially disappointed and she felt  _ terrible. _

 

It wasn’t like this formal was going to be a repeat of the last one, but for some reason, she was panicking. The idea of even being in that type of situation again it-

 

“It’s okay. We can do something else.” He reasoned.

 

It was such a sweet gesture, she wanted to cry, mad at herself.

 

“Clarke! You ready?” Harper asked, interrupting the conversation. “Sorry, but I know you are supposed to pick up Josie in 10 mintues.”

 

She looked down at her watch, unaware that it had gotten so late.

 

“It’s cool, I’ll text you?” Bellamy asked.

 

Clarke nodded. 

 

“Yeah, that’s fine.”

 

He smiled, leaned down to kiss her on the cheek, and then turned to walk with the team to the locker rooms.

 

She sighed and followed Harper out to the car.

 

 

* * *

  
  
  
  


Bellamy was gloomy as he put his things away, sad that Clarke hadn’t wanted to go the formal.

 

It wasn’t until after Gabriel had mentioned it that Bellamy even remembered the formal. 

 

Suddenly, the only thing he could think about was taking Clarke with him. The two of them standing off to the side of the room, people watching, making snarky comments about people they didn’t like.

 

Honestly, it was the only thing that made the whole shindig sound bearable. Especially considering the award he was supposed to be getting. Those types of things always made him uncomfortable.

 

“At least she said she’d give you another shot.” Monty consoled from beside him.

 

He wasn’t wrong, really. 

 

Clarke could’ve turned him down in front of all of those people, but she didn’t.

 

“I know. The venue doesn’t really matter, I just want to go out with her so I can talk to her. I just thought that stupid banquet would be enjoyable for once if she came with me.”

 

Monty chuckled.

 

“Yeah, well. At least you’ll get the satisfaction of pretty boy Gabriel’s black eye marring his perfect, suited get-up.”

 

Bellamy smirked as he closed his locker, turning to face his friend as he leaned his shoulder against it.

 

“True.” He conceded. “Too bad he got written out for this game. I would’ve enjoyed accidentally hitting him in the face with a soccer ball.”

 

Monty rolled his eyes and closed his locker, picking up his bag from the bench as they started to leave the room.

 

“You’re lucky he decided to remain mum about what happened to him.”

 

Bellamy shrugged.

 

“His ego is too big. He would never.”

 

Monty chuckled and pushed the heavy doors to the outside open so they could walk through.

 

“Let’s hope so, man.”

  
  
  
  
  


* * *

 

 

 

“I can’t believe you’re literally all over my social media timelines. It’s like you’re a fucking celebrity or some shit.” Josie said, her fingers swiping away at her screen.

 

Clarke sighed.

 

“Excellent. Just what I want.”

 

Josephine snorted, turning to look at her sister from the passenger side of the car.

 

“What did you expect? Your boyfriend is one of the most popular students on campus. And he serenaded you in the middle of his soccer match. It was practically a scene from a movie.”

 

Clarke glared at her sister briefly before returning her attention back to the road.

 

“I just can’t believe you turned him down on the dance offer.”

 

Clarke’s head jerked to look at her sister once more, mouth open.

 

“How do you know about that?”

 

Josephine rolled her eyes, finally dropping her phone to her lap to give her sister her attention.

 

“You weren’t in a private place, weirdo. You were in the middle of a soccer field.”

 

Clarke cleared her throat, her eyes watching the pavement disappear under the car, the yellow lines a blur at the fast speeds.

 

“The last time I went to a formal was the night I lost my virginity.” Clarke admitted quietly.

 

Surprisingly, Josephine had no response, so when she remained silent, Clarke continued on.

 

“He was this hot shot, a lot like Bellamy in that way. He was a “model” on the side. He bought me gifts and trinkets and told me how beautiful I was. I was smitten. We had been on maybe two dates when he asked me to go to the formal for his fraternity.”

 

Josephine spoke up then.

 

“Wait. You dated your freshman year? You never-”

 

“Yeah, I know, I never mentioned it. For good reason.” She sighed. “At the party, he convinced me to sneak into one of the rooms away from the event and we had sex. It was my first time, but I also really liked this guy. I thought we had something special.” She cleared her throat. “After that night, I went home, fully expecting to see him the next day.”

 

Josephine still didn’t comment.

 

“In the end, I never heard from him again.” Clarke finished. “So, that’s why I didn’t mention it and that’s why I don’t date. Been there, done that. Learned my lesson. Freshman year, I had a few more flings, but I never expected more, even when I did come across the occasional person who wanted more. What was the use? They all leave in the end.”

 

Josephine was picking at the hem of her dress, obviously contemplating what her sister was saying.

 

“They’re not all like that, you know.” She said, her voice quiet.

 

Clarke swallowed down her automatic pessimistic retort.

 

“You might be right.” She conceded instead.

 

“For what it’s worth, I think Bellamy really does like you.” Josephine chuckled. “I mean, I don’t know any guys who would sing in front of thousands of people for me.”

 

Clarke smiled softly, remembering the way he’d stood under that spotlight, all eyes on him.

 

“Maybe not yet.” Clarke said, her eyes looking to her sister once more. “And maybe you’re right. Maybe I should go to this party. Prove to myself that not all grand, formal events are the worst.”

 

Josephine laughed, her eyes fixed on Clarke’s face.

 

“Well, maybe they are. But maybe they  _ aren’t _ if you go with the right person.” Josephine said, shrugging at Clarke’s incredulous stare. “I got asked to the formal too.”

 

Clarke chuckled.

 

“Is this all some veiled attempt to get me to go so you can go to?” Clarke asked, honest.

 

Josephine sighed deeply and leaned back into her seat.

 

“Maybe initially. But not anymore. I really  _ do _ think Bellamy just wants to go with you. Besides, even if you do go, I think I’ll go alone.”

 

Clarke smirked, looking to her sister.

 

“You need an invitation, dork.”

 

Josephine grinned, unashamed.

 

“So I use the guy to get the invite and then I ditch him for someone who isn’t trying to buy my affections.”

 

Clarke chuckled and shook her head, pulling into the dorm parking lot.

 

“I can’t believe we’re related.” She mused, reaching over and messing up Josie’s hair.

 

Josephine rolled her eyes and unbuckled her seatbelt.

 

“Whatever. You wish you were as cool as me.”

 

And with that, she was gone, her feet carrying her into her building and out of the night.

 

Clarke smiled to herself, watching her sister walk away.

 

Reaching into the console, she retrieved her phone and type out a message she hoped she didn’t regret in the morning.

 

**Clarke Griffin** _Okay. I’ll go with you to the formal._

 

She sighed and sat the phone in her lap, not expecting a quick response, but jumped when it buzzed almost immediately against her skin.

 

**Bellamy Blake** _ I knew you couldn’t resist me ;) _

 

She grinned in spite of herself.

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


**Clarke Griffin** _ You better make it worth my while, Blake. _

 

Bellamy smiled at his phone, his goofy grin causing Monty who sat across the table from him to roll his eyes.

 

**Bellamy Blake** _ I live to serve, Princess. _

 

“You two are disgusting.” Monty grumbled, taking a swig of his beer.

 

“Dick.” Belamy said, throwing a peanut at Monty across the table.

 

He felt better than he had in a long time.

 

She said  _ yes. _

 

He would tell her what happened with Gabriel and the two of them would work through it.

 

Everything was going to be okay.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> But was it though?
> 
> Is everything ever okay?
> 
> Ever?
> 
> skjskjs
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this.
> 
> Last chapter will come next Wednesday and we'll get to see how this whole cluster wraps up!
> 
> No spoilers but probably happily with a little dash of lovin' because, you know, it's me.
> 
> Anywho.
> 
> If you haven't read Mindless Dreaming, it is now COMPLETE. Lots of love and beauty goodness in that one.
> 
> Until next time...
> 
> BECHO BREAKUP IN 6X11 PRAYER CIRCLE!!
> 
> \- Mally


	4. Not even a little bit, Not even at all

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IT's here!!!
> 
> I'm so sorry about the lateness.
> 
> Those who follow me on Twitter can tell you I've been super busy and stressed IRL.
> 
> Hope it's worth the wait!
> 
>  
> 
> See you on the flip side ;)

**Part 4 - Not even a little bit, Not even at all**

 

 

 

“Remind me again why I agreed to go to this thing?” She grumbled to her sister who stood behind her in the mirror, zipping up her dress for the formal.

 

“Because a really hot guy who seems to be almost obsessively interested in you asked you to go and because you wanted to give me the chance to go. Very kind of you, by the way.”

 

Clarke chuckled and pulled at the top of her dress, moving it into place, looking at her sister in their reflection.

 

“Yeah, well. You’re at least ditching the asshat when you get there.” She bit down on her bottom lip taking in the beautiful white gown that reached all the way to the floor. “And I’ll admit, I’m looking forward to seeing Bellamy Blake in a tux.”

 

Josephine snorted and moved beside her sister, sitting down on top of Clarke’s dorm room bed to pull on her heels.

 

“You and everyone else too, sister dear.”

 

Clarke could admit that she was nervous. She and Bellamy hadn’t even been dancing around one another that long, and she was already so enamoured.

 

She could admit now that her pushing him away was definitely her own way of coping with feelings that were entirely too strong for someone she didn’t know very well. He just seemed so perfect for her. 

 

And that was a pretty daunting feeling to have.

 

She sighed, and stood from her position, clapping her hands together once.

 

“Now, are we gonna do this thing?” She asked Clarke, an eyebrow raised in challenge.

 

Clarke grinned, looping her left arm through her sister’s right and moving them to the door.

 

“We are.”

 

They walked to the elevator and took it down to the main floor lobby. A few people were milling about in their everyday clothes and they got several stunned stares as they moved toward the entrance hall. 

 

“So Gabriel is going to be here at 7:45. When is Bellamy arriving?”

 

Clarke looked down at her cell phone that she was carrying in her hand.

 

“He should be here any second actually.” She mumbled, reading the text message he had sent her when he left his apartment.

 

Once they reached the doors that led to the outside of the building, she turned to her sister and held both of her hands, looking seriously into her eyes, wanting her complete attention.

 

“The  _ second  _ you need me, I’ll ditch Bellamy and get you out of there, okay?”

 

Josephine rolled her eyes.

 

“And how exactly do you plan to do that? Bellamy is driving.”

 

Clarke seemed to mull that over for a second before she nodded.

 

“Okay, Bellamy can drive us. He won’t mind.”

 

Josephine chuckled and pulled her hands from her sister’s grasp, leaning into the front door and letting in the cool autumn air as they walked outside.

 

Clarke knew she would have to let her sister grow up at some point and tonight was a very important step in the right direction. It wasn’t like Josephine was still a child - She could admit that to herself, but it was still hard to let go when she could potentially shield her from making some of the same mistakes she herself had made.

 

“Don’t worry about me, big sis. I can take care of myself, I promise.”

 

Clarke sighed, dropping her arm around her sister’s shoulders and letting it hang between them.

 

“I know you can, Jo. I just-” She paused, her eyes drawn to an approaching Jeep that was headed towards her dorm. “I just want to make sure you know you have an out.”

 

Josephine leaned into her, hugging her tightly from the side.

 

“Noted. Now, I do believe that hottie in the black Jeep Wrangler is here for  _ you _ .”

 

Clarke looked up to see Bellamy watching the two of them from the driver’s seat. She watched him smile a small smile before he pushed his door open, obviously headed in her direction.

 

“Love you, Jo.” She kissed Josephine on the cheek and dropped her arm, turning to face Bellamy as he approached.

 

“You too, sis.” Josephine responded, her face already morphing into a sneaky smile at Bellamy who had reached their bubble of solitude.

 

When her eyes finally met Bellamy’s, she instantly came alive, her body hot all over. Not just from the fact that Bellamy really  _ did _ look supernaturally hot in a tuxedo but also because he was staring at her like he wanted to eat her alive.

 

“My lady.” He bowed with a smirk on his lips.

 

Clarke rolled her eyes, stepping down to meet him on the top step, turning one last time to face her sister.

 

“If  _ anything _ goes wrong with the asshat, call me  _ immediately. _ ” She told her sister, her voice dripping with displeasure.

 

Bellamy’s head rose at that, looking up at Josephine with a look of confusion.

 

“Duh, loser. Now go, please. You’re killing my vibe.”

 

Clarke sighed and startled slightly as Bellamy’s arm was suddenly at her side, offering her the chance to weave her arm through his for the walk down the steps to the car.

 

“I don’t bite.” He said with a grin.

 

She smirked and looped her arm through his, the two of them walking in sync toward the Jeep parked on the curb. When they reached the vehicle, he surprised her yet again by leaning forward and opening her door for her.

 

She lifted an eyebrow at him as she climbed up into the vehicle, Bellamy shutting the door behind her before moving to the driver’s side door and heaving himself inside.

 

“Who knew you were such a gentleman.” She said, her voice sly, as he started the engine.

 

Bellamy chuckled from his seat, turning to look in her direction with a smile.

 

“I’m full of surprises, Princess.”

 

She leaned her head back and watched him put the car into gear before pulling out into the road. She did that for a few minutes, just watched him, and he would occasionally glance in her direction and attempt to hide his amused smile.

 

Eventually, she had her fill and turned to look out the window instead.

 

“You look very lovely tonight.” He said after a minute, causing her to turn back around.

 

She watched as he took glances at her form, taking in her dress from head to toe.

 

It was a beautiful dress and she wore it with him in mind, she would admit. It was a soft white and hugged all of her curves in the best possible way. The top of the dress had two thick straps that criss-crossed over her breasts and wrapped around the tops of her shoulders.

 

“Thanks.” She said softly, her eyes taking in the way his hands clenched and unclenched repeatedly on the leather of the steering wheel. “You look nice too.”

 

His smirk returned then and she almost regretted saying anything, but who was she to deny his undeniably handsome good looks?

 

“So what’s the plan, then? We go to this shindig, you get that award for being such a super star, and then we mingle with all the athletic department higher ups? How charming should I be?” Clarke asked, her voice teasing.

 

Bellamy laughed lightly and the husky quality of his voice made her instinctively rub her thighs together. 

 

“Just be you, that will be more than enough.” He said, same tone in place, and she watched as he reached a hand out over the center console of the two front seats, palm up.

 

She only hesitated a second before she met him in the middle, clasping her hand in his, his fingers threading through hers and holding her hand firmly in his grasp.

 

Her heart, which had previously been sprinting in her chest, was now galloping a mile a minute as she really took in the sheer size of his hand and the way it engulfed her own.

 

The veins underneath his skin popped as he gripped her and she longed to reach over and trace them with the fingertips of her other hand.

 

“It’s going to be a long night for both of us if you keep staring at me like that, Princess.”

 

Her eyes snapped up to his to find him watching her with a narrowed, darkened gaze.

 

She bit down on her bottom lip and let her head fall back against the seat behind her.

 

“I would apologize, but I’m not actually sorry.”

 

Bellamy huffed and continued to drive, his thumb rubbing small circles on the back of her hand.

 

Clarke giggled and turned around to look out the window once more.

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


The formal was very… formal. 

 

Had she been there with anyone other than Bellamy, she probably would have been decidedly uncomfortable, but she couldn’t bring herself to regret coming as they walked around the room and Bellamy introduced her to some of the athletic advisors and coaches.

 

Harper and Monty were there, but they were already seated at their table on the other side of the room, so after they said hello, they continued their circuit of greetings.

 

“Ah, so this is the woman who inspired the half-time show, then? Happy to see Mr. Blake here has finally found someone who will put up with his less-than-desirable personality.” The head soccer coach commented gleefully as Bellamy made introductions between the two of them.

 

“Yes, well, someone has to do it, I suppose.” She grinned, looking up at Bellamy who looked less than pleased by his coach’s jab.

 

“And on that note, I think Clarke and I should find our seats.” He grumbled.

 

His coach laughed and raised his glass as they walked toward the tables outlining the ballroom.

 

Clarke looped her arm through his and smiled, huddling in close to his side.

 

“Cheer up, Bellamy. It could be worse. You could be here alone, without a smoking hot date.” She winked at his side glance and watched as he struggled to contain his own smile.

 

“I suppose that’s true.” She watched as he looked around, searching for something. “So, I was hoping we could talk while I have you here.”

 

She raised an eyebrow in his direction.

 

“Talk? Like talk? Or…  _ talk? _ Cause it’s only our first date, you know, and I’m a  _ lady. _ Although, I suppose you  _ might  _ be able to convince me to make out like teenagers in a dark corner at some point.” She mused.

 

Bellamy sighed, his left hand running through his hair.

 

“No, I mean like  _ actually _ talk. There’s something I need you to know before-”

 

“Bellamy.” A voice greeted.

 

She looked up to find her sister and that smarmy guy from the soccer team standing in front of them.

 

Josie looked bored and entirely uncomfortable. It took everything in Clarke’s willpower not to intervene on her behalf. She had to trust her sister would eventually ditch this douche nozzle.

 

“Gabriel.” Bellamy gritted out through clenched teeth.

 

It gave her immense satisfaction that Bellamy also seemed to dislike this guy because she was really struggling to contain a scowl.

 

Said asshole smirked in her direction at that moment.

 

“Ah, so this is your sister then, Josie? Clarke, isn’t it?” He reached a hand out in her direction and she was proud of herself for only allowing a small cringe as she shook it. “Very nice, Bellamy.”

 

She felt Bellamy tense under her arm and her right hand raised to his bicep and squeezed, assuring him that she was fine.

 

“So, is there a purpose to this conversation? Because Clarke and I were just looking for our seats.” He all but growled at the other man.

 

She watched Josie’s eyebrows rise in surprised delight and Clarke grinned in her direction.

 

Gabriel’s amused expression morphed into a scowl of his own as he moved his arm around Josephine’s shoulders.

 

“Nah. Just wanted to meet Josie’s sister. I mean,” He started, his eyes finding Clarke once more. “You’ve really made her  _ famous _ . You should see my Instagram feed.”

 

At this point, Clarke was going to have to take a shower to feel clean from this guy’s slimey presence.

 

“Well, you’ve met me.” She spoke up. “Although, honestly, I’m a little disappointed. I thought my sister had better taste.”

 

Bellamy snorted at her side and she watched Gabriel’s carefully annoyed expression become more thunderous. 

 

“And on that note, we’re out. See you later, sis!” Josephine intervened, pulling Gabriel away from the two of them before they could get into an all-out brawl.

 

Suddenly, she felt Bellamy’s arm leave her own before he wrapped it around her waist and pulled her in close, her chest pressing against his.

 

“Just when I thought I couldn’t like you any more than I do.” He murmured, his eyes dropping to her lips.

 

Clarke smiled, biting down on her lip. She watched his eyes narrow at the small action.

 

“I think you’ll find that my snarkiness is one of my better traits.” She grinned, recalling that first day in her store where he followed her around like an annoying pest.

 

He smiled a real smile, leaning down and pressing a soft kiss against her forehead.

“We still need to talk.” He said, taking her arm once more and leading her to the tables.

 

“You know, you’re starting to scare me with that.” Her eyes cut to him as he spotted his name and pulled out the chair next to him for her to claim.

 

“Talking scares you?” He asked as he sat down beside her. 

 

“More like extreme urgency.”

 

He sighed, reaching over to clasp her hand in his on top of the table.

 

“Noted.” 

 

At that moment, others joined them, introducing themselves, and their conversation was stalled yet again.

  
  


\----

  
  


Her phone buzzed beside her plate and she placed her fork on the napkin to check the notification.

 

**Josephine** _Doooooone. Thank God. Couldn’t get rid of that slime ball fast enough._

 

She felt herself exhale a sigh of relief, knowing everything was fine with Josie. 

 

“Everything alright?” Bellamy asked, concerned.

 

“Yeah. Just Josie letting me know that she ditched that pretty asshole.”

 

She watched as Bellamy’s own shoulders seemed to lose a lot of tension as well.

 

“Thank God. I didn’t want to say anything because I know your sister can make her own choices, but… Gabriel isn’t a good guy.”

 

Clarke could herself warm at the thought of Bellamy being worried about her sister.

 

“I’m pretty proud, actually.” She said. “I’m glad to know that Josie can make her own, responsible decisions. I raised her well.”

 

Bellamy laughed and raised his glass in her direction.

 

“Apparently so.”

 

They were able to have a lovely dinner after that, having great conversation with the two other couples seated at their table. The room was all abuzz at that point, alcohol having had its effect in loosening up everyone’s nerves. Clarke was a little jealous she couldn’t partake. Not to mention, the more formal part of the evening was now over, the awards had been given, and speeches had been made.

 

Her eyes glanced over at Bellamy’s plaque laying in the middle of the table and she found that she was proud of him, even if she hadn’t even known him that long. 

 

The two of them had an interesting relationship, she knew, but the more she allowed herself to really give him a chance, the more she realized just  _ how _ much she liked him.

 

Which was dangerous in its own way, considering Bellamy would be leaving at the end of this year.

 

“The dance floor is now open, ladies and gentleman.” A voice came from the podium on the stage.

 

She vaguely recognized the man as one of the directors Bellamy had introduced her to, but she was suddenly distracted by the feeling of Bellamy’s hand reaching out toward her.

 

“Would you care to dance?” He asked in a teasing voice, emulating the formality of another time.

 

She rolled her eyes but still reached a hand out toward him.

 

“Sure.”

 

He smiled and stood, bringing her with him and pulling her out to the dance floor. When they reached the middle, he swung her around to face him, their hands posed in a formal dance position.

 

She squealed at the unexpected motion, laughing outright when she stopped exactly where he needed her, leading her around the floor in a perfect waltz.

 

“Well, you’re just full of surprises aren’t you?” She said, her cheeks flushed and her voice amused.

 

Bellamy’s smile was blinding as he guided her in their dance and she was having trouble convincing herself that she shouldn’t immediately drag him to a dark corner and fulfill her statement from earlier in the evening.

 

“Maybe. You haven’t seen anything yet, Princess.”

 

She flushed under his penetrating stare and tried to keep herself from imagining just what he was implying with his words.

 

She felt a tap on her shoulder and she turned around quickly, confused by the sudden interruption.

 

“Sorry to intrude.” Gabriel said in a snide voice. “But I needed to give Bellamy something before I leave.”

 

Clarke’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion as she watched Gabriel reach into his jacket pocket and pull out a white envelope, holding it out to Bellamy, who looked horrified suddenly.

 

“I’m sorry?” Clarke asked, obviously not in on whatever this conversation was about.

 

“I told you. I don’t want it.” Bellamy growled, stepping forward in Gabriel’s direction, who for his credit, stepped backward.

 

Smart man.

 

“Don’t want what?” Clarke asked again, still willing someone to explain what was going on.

 

Gabriel smirked then, turning to Clarke instead, giving  _ her _ the envelope.

 

“Clarke-” Bellamy stepped in her direction but she had already opened the envelope, her eyes widening when she noted that it was filled with a bundle of bills.

 

“Money?” Her voice was colored with the confusion she felt, but something about this whole situation made her heart drop in her chest. Her emotions seeming to recognize something that her brain hadn’t quite caught on to just yet. “Why is Gabriel giving you money, Bellamy? Did you do something for him? I thought you didn’t even  _ like _ him?”

 

She knew Gabriel was standing right beside her, but honestly, she couldn’t be bothered with him and his feelings at the moment.

 

“I  _ don’t _ like him, Clarke, I-”

 

“Oh, didn’t he tell you?” Gabriel asked, ignoring Bellamy altogether. “See, Bellamy here did me a favor. I wanted to ask your sister out, you see, but I couldn’t do that unless you went out with someone too- That’s a really strange rule by the way. So, I asked Bellamy if he would do me a solid and take you out a few times, free up your sister so to speak. I hadn’t been able to track him down and pay him yet, so before I left, I wanted to make sure he got his due.”

 

Clarke’s heart wasn’t functioning. Her breath wasn’t coming the way that it should and she could feel the blood draining from her face.

 

He… He what?

 

“Clarke, no. Listen to me. I-”

 

“Is it true?” She interrupted, her whisper breaking through even the loud noise of the ballroom that was still alive, not having caught on to what was happening in the middle of the dance floor.

 

Bellamy stilled suddenly, his hands opening and closing, fingers clenching at his sides, and she knew the truth even before he confirmed it.

 

“Yes. But, Clarke, listen, I told him I didn’t want the money. That’s what I was going to talk to you about tonight, I-”

 

He was cut off suddenly by the feeling of her hand against his cheek, the sound of the slap reverberating around the room as suddenly, everyone realized something was happened and turned to stare in their direction.

 

Her cheeks were burning with embarrassment, not only at the unwanted attention, but also at herself.

 

How could she have been so  _ stupid? _

 

Did she really think that this guy she’d never even  _ met _ would take such an unwarranted interest in her without some sort of provocation on his part?

 

She was invisible. She went out of her way to be so, and for a  _ reason  _ \- A reason that she was starkly reminded of.

 

Suddenly, a warm hand was on her forearm and her eyes quickly shot to the person beside her, Josephine’s sad eyes finding hers.

 

“Get me out of here.” She pleaded to her sister.

 

Josephine nodded, pulling her away from the scene and toward the entrance.

 

“Clarke! No, wait! Clarke!” She could hear Bellamy yelling after her in a haze of sound, the noises around her softly melting into a hodgepodge of nonsense. The whispers and gasps of indignation penetrating the wall of sound banging against her skull.

 

She felt herself suddenly pushed behind Josephine, who guarded her with her outstretched arms.

 

In her lack of awareness, she couldn’t even make out what Josephine said, but before she knew it, they were outside the building and walking toward a waiting car with an Uber sticker, Bellamy nowhere in sight.

 

When they were settled into the back of the vehicle, she felt herself wrapped in Josephine’s arms, soft whisperings in her ear as she sobbed into her sister’s beautiful dress.

 

“Shhh, we’ve got you, babe.” Harper’s voice came from her left.

 

Harper? When had Harper joined them?

 

“It’s okay, Clarke.” She vaguely registered her sister consoling her. “It’s okay.”

 

And although she knew her sister was only trying to make her feel better, she couldn’t help but think that, in that moment, it didn’t  _ feel _ like it would be okay.

 

It didn’t feel like it would be okay ever again.

 

 

* * *

  
  
  
  


It had been a week and she was still hiding out in her dorm room.

 

She knew that she would have to come out eventually, but as she sat on her bed, staring at the screen of her laptop, she couldn’t find a reason to convince herself to get the fuck up and face the world like the badass woman she knew she was.

 

Josephine took her phone.

 

After 24 full hours of Bellamy trying to text and call, begging her to listen to him, Josephine grabbed it from her desk where she had been staring at it miserably and took it with her, declaring that she would only get it back when she deemed it okay.

 

And now, a week later, she felt like she had gotten to a place that was comfortably numb.

 

Josie had been by at least twice a day to check in on her and bring her assignments from her professors, so at least she’d had some sort of human contact.

 

The sound of the door knob jiggling brought her out of her musings and she looked up to see her sister entering, coffee tray in hand.

 

“Bad news. Your English professor says that you have to be present for your creative writing presentation, no recordings allowed.”

 

Clarke sighed sadly, her head falling back against the wall behind her. She had been hoping her professor would allow for an alternate presentation of her assignment so she didn’t have to actually read her writing in front of the whole class.

 

Generally, she wouldn’t have minded.

 

But Bellamy was in her class now.

 

_ Buck the fuck up, Griffin. _

 

“Fine.” She mumbled, continuing her typing and ignoring the heavy weight now settled in her stomach.

 

The silence that followed after her resignation caused her to look up at her sister, who was biting down on her lip, seemingly hesitant to speak on the matter.

 

“What?” She asked, unused to her sister not saying exactly what she was thinking.

 

Josephine sighed and sat the coffee down on the desk beside her bed, sitting in the chair tucked underneath it.

 

“Okay, hear me out, and don’t get mad, kay?”

 

Clarke’s face contorted into a confused stare as she looked at her usually confident sister fidget in her seat.

 

“Jo, just spit it out.”

 

Josephine sighed and ran a frustrated hand across her forehead.

 

“I think you should hear Bellamy out.”

 

Clarke’s eyes widened in disbelief at the confession.

 

Josephine  _ hated _ Bellamy. For days now, she had come into Clarke’s dorm room and completely  _ trashed _ him and everything about him. Something had apparently happened to change her point of view on that subject matter.

 

“I should?” She asked, unable to keep her incredulous tone at bay.

 

Josie rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest.

 

“Listen, I hate being one to admit when I’m wrong but…” She hesitated before pulling her cell phone out of her pocket. “But then he posted this to his Instagram page.”

 

Clarke was even more confused.

 

“Bellamy doesn’t have an Instagram page. We had an entire conversation at the banquet about how much he  _ hates _ social media and everything that it has done to our generation, specifically in denying our upcoming youth of the necessary social skills they need to be successful in life.”

 

She had never seen Josephine roll her eyes so hard.

 

“Right. Well he created one. Last night. There’s only one post.” She threw the phone in Clarke’s direction, the heavy weight of it bouncing softly on Clarke’s mattress. “And you should read it.”

 

Clarke picked the phone up from her duvet, seeing that it was open to an Instagram page with Bellamy’s name, no picture as a profile picture. No bio, no persons he was following… It was a shell of an Instagram page and it was  _ so  _ Bellamy Blake.

 

She hesitated to click on the only post. From the profile page, the little icon was obviously a white page with tiny words - Writing.

 

Did he really create an Instagram profile just to try and reach out to her?

 

Tapping on the icon, she noted that the message was several pictures, the little gray dots at the bottom a visual indicator that whatever it was he had to say couldn’t fit in a single screenshot.

 

She swallowed but allowed herself to read.

 

**BellamyBlake24**

 

_ Recently, I fucked up. _

 

_ I’ve always tried to keep my head down and do what needed to be done for myself and for my family. I play soccer not just because I love it but because I need to. I’ve never allowed myself to be distracted from the goal. _

 

_ But then I did. _

 

_ I allowed someone with bad intentions to convince me to do something royally fucked up, all because I convinced myself that it wouldn’t hurt anyone and that it was what was best for my family. _

 

_ I was wrong. _

 

_ And by the time I realized that, it was too late. I couldn’t take back what I had done because it had already happened. But then I also realized that  _ **_because_ ** _ it happened, something amazing had taken place as a result. _

 

_ I’ve never opened myself up to people, specifically people who I could potentially get close to because - Well, never be distracted from the goal, right? _

 

_ Finally, I had found someone who I could be myself with. Someone who saw past my stupid exterior and through the noise to the person I really was, and then called me out on it. _

 

_ So I tried to fix it. I tried to fix it, and I failed. _

 

_ And now I don’t know that I’ll ever get another chance to repair the damage that I created. _

 

_ But what I do know is that I want to regret what I did. I want to tell myself that if I could go back in time and change things, that I would. _

 

_ But the truth is, I wouldn’t. _

 

_ Because what I did, even though it was fucked up, led me to  _ **_her._ **

 

_ And even though I regret  _ **_how_ ** _ it happened, I can’t regret that it did. _

 

_ Even now, as I sit here, writing out this stupid Instagram post, diminishing my own refusal to amuse the masses with a social media presence to nothing, I realize that it’s because I won’t move past this. _

 

_ I  _ **_can’t_ ** _ move past this. _

 

_ I can’t get over it. I can’t get over  _ **_her._ **

 

_ And I don’t want to. _

 

_ Maybe she’ll see this. Maybe someday, this will make its way to her because I don’t really know how this whole social media thing works, but it seemed more likely she would see it here than on her cell phone, where I’m pretty sure she’s blocked my number. _

 

_ And I know this seems pathetic, but I’m beyond caring about my own appearance now. _

 

_ I fucked up and I want to make it right. I  _ **_have_ ** _ to. _

 

_ Even if she never wants to see me again, I have to tell her this: _

_   
_ _ I’m sorry. I’m so  _ **_fucking_ ** _ sorry. Nothing I say will ever make what I did okay. But if I had to choose between never meeting you at all and fucking up so royally that you never want to speak to me again, I would choose the latter everytime. _

 

_ Because I got to be around you for however long I could. _

 

_ And I could never regret that. _

  
  


Clarke placed the phone on top of her bed once more, Josephine’s eyes on the side of her face, waiting for her reaction, she was sure.

 

She was having trouble breathing again, silent tears falling down her face still, even though she had finished reading.

 

And she was confused.

 

_ “I can’t get over it.” _

 

“How do I know any of it was even  _ real? _ ” She whispered, her voice sounding wrecked, even to her own ears.

 

Josephine sighed.

 

“I’m no expert, but… That post seems pretty real to me.”

 

She saw her sister stand in her peripheral vision, moving in her direction before she jumped up on her bed, sitting beside her cross-legged.

 

“I’m not saying what he did wasn’t wrong. It  _ was  _ and he seems to know that too.  _ But _ he seems pretty genuine in wanting to apologize for his fuck up.”

 

Clarke hastily wiped the tears from her face, trying to get herself together again.

 

“It’s a really,  _ really  _ shitty way to start a relationship.” Clarke said, a slight edge to her deprecating words.

 

Josephine chuckled softly, rubbing at the skin of her knees in thought.

 

“It is. And you don’t  _ have  _ to continue the relationship, Clarke. But I think it might be interesting to hear his side of things too. Let’s be honest - Gabriel isn’t the most reliable source.”

 

Clarke sighed, knowing her sister was right.

 

“Fine.” She looked at her laptop where her creative writing project was staring back at her and suddenly, she felt an inspiration to write something entirely different. “In the mean time, I have some writing to do, so if you wouldn’t mind…”

 

She trailed off and Josephine took the hint, rolling her eyes and standing up.

 

“Sure, whatever.” She grabbed her coffee from the desk. “I’ll bring your phone back later. Harper wanted me to tell you that she’ll be at the championship game this afternoon if you change your mind and decide to do. She says you can wear whatever you want too.”

 

Clarke chuckled mirthlessly.

 

“How kind of her. I take it she also read Bellamy’s Instagram post?”

 

Josephine ignored her.

 

“You have four hours before your lit class. You should keep writing.” She hesitated at the door, her hand lingering on the door knob. “If you need me, text me. When you have your phone, that is.” She smirked over her shoulder and left.

 

Clarke stared down at the document where she’d been typing before closing out of it and opening a new one.

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


He was miserable.

 

There was no other way to describe the absolute solitude and sadness he’d experienced in the past week.

 

Clarke wasn’t responding to any of his texts or calls, she wasn’t coming to her classes, and he hadn’t seen her anywhere on campus.

 

Not that he’d been stalking her classes again.

 

Okay, so maybe he had.

 

He just wanted to talk to her. To tell her how sorry he was. That the second he realized how much he cared about her and what an idiot he’d been, he’d turned Gabriel down and decided to tell her.

 

Gabriel just got to it first.

 

He’d created the Instagram last night out of desperation.

 

He didn’t think she would actually see it.

 

Granted, now everyone  _ else  _ had apparently seen it, if the stares he’d been getting across campus meant anything.

 

Sitting down in his usual seat for english lit, he settled in and stared at the seat Clarke had once occupied beside him.

 

She was like a ghost, always there, everywhere he went. Before, it had been odd to see her everywhere he went after they first met. Now, he missed it. Wondered how he’d never seen her before. How they had never met. Was it really possible for there to be someone out there so completely  _ perfect  _ for you and never meet them?

 

Apparently.

 

Class started and Clarke still hadn’t arrived.

 

He was slightly surprised, even though she hadn’t been to class in a week. The professor had been pretty explicit in his saying that presentations were today only and had to be done in front of everyone, or you would receive no credit.

 

His fingers itched to get his phone out and text her. To remind her.

 

Even though she wasn’t talking to him, he still worried about her and wanted her to be successful.

 

At that moment, the door opened quietly and he watched her walk in, her head down as she made her way to a seat on the front row near the door, not even looking in his direction.

 

His heart started hammering faster at just the sight of her and then broke somewhat when she didn’t even  _ try _ to seek him out.

 

“So.” His professor interrupted his thoughts. “Anyone want to volunteer to go first?”

 

He was still looking at her, so he was taken aback to watch Clarke’s hand fly up, volunteering to do her presentation.

 

“Ah, yes, Ms. Griffin. Glad you could join us. Good to see you’re feeling better.” Dr. Franks’ voice spoke volumes in that he knew Clarke hadn’t actually been sick and had only showed up because she had to.

 

Clarke ignored it and walked to the podium at the front of the room and rested her papers on the ledge.

 

When she looked up suddenly, her eyes immediately found his and he stopped breathing.

 

He stared back, his eyes conveying everything he wanted to say to her, pleading with her to give him a chance. To let him explain.

 

She looked back down, clearing her throat before she began.

 

“I can’t get over it.” She started and immediately, it was lance to the chest, his eyes finding the top of his desk as she continued.

_ I can’t get over the way you follow me around _

_ And the way you smirk my way. _

_ I can’t get over your messy hair  _

_ Or the cocky things you say. _

_ I can’t get over the way you know  _

_ the things I try to hide. _

_ I can’t get over how crazy you make me, _

_ how it eats me up inside. _

_ I can’t get over-  _

 

She paused, her voice breaking, and his eyes found her face once more, taking in her pained features and wishing he could run to her, hold her and take it all away from her.

 

_ I can’t get over how you’re never wrong. _

_ even though you took that stupid deal. _

_ I can’t get past the way I think,  _

_ even worse, the way I feel. _

_ I can’t get over how I wish you were here _

_ or how my heart speeds when you call.  _

_ But mostly, what I can’t get over, is how I’m not over you. _

_ Not even close. _

_ not even a little bit,  _

_ not even at all. _

 

She finished and the room was deadly silent, no one daring to move.

 

His hands were shaking as he registered what she’d just read, her eyes suddenly finding his over the crowd of people in the rows in front of him.

 

And then she was gone, leaving her paper on the podium, grabbing her backpack as she ran out the door.

 

“Wait.” He said softly, his voice registering before his body could, as he suddenly stood and ran down the stairs toward the door.

 

“Mr. Blake!” Dr. Franks called, but he couldn’t be bothered to listen, already following her out the door.

 

He looked down each side of the hallway, Clarke nowhere in sight.

 

He ran, his feet taking him down the hall toward the entrance, searching frantically for any sign of her that he could see.

 

But when he reached the stairs leading out of the building and into the courtyard below, she was gone, blending in with the mass of people crossing the lawn.

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


She was miserable.

 

There was no other way to describe it.

 

She’d read that stupid poem in a moment of bravery, and now she felt like an idiot.

 

Someone who laid her heart out there, exposing the raw, innermost workings of her heart to the entire world.

 

Her phone was off, even though Josie had given it back to her because she couldn’t bring herself to know whether or not Bellamy had tried to contact her.

 

She had seen the way he looked at her and while she wasn’t sure what it meant, she was feeling too  _ exposed _ to find out for sure.

 

And yet, here she was, sitting in the stands with Harper, watching the soccer championship game.

 

Harper had been understanding enough to at least sit with her in the stands instead of the Player’s section, but she still screamed just as loud for Monty as he ran up and down the field.

 

Admittedly, Bellamy seemed very out of it, his expression much less joyous than it usually was as he was playing, never celebrating, even when they would score a goal.

 

She could feel Harper sigh next to her.

 

“I’m not saying you need to forgive him.” Harper started and Clarke stiffened instinctively. “But you deserve the whole truth from  _ someone. _ ” Her friend turned to her, taking her hands and leading her to sit down on the bleacher from where they’d been standing. “Bellamy’s family is not well off. At all. Bellamy has spent his entire life trying to make things better for them, getting a scholarship in soccer so that he could go to college for free, taking spare jobs whenever he could to save money for his little sister to go to college too.”

 

Clarke’s breath hitched at that. She had no idea Bellamy had a sister.

 

“Even now, he bartends a couple of nights a week to put away extra funds. Octavia will graduate high school soon and she doesn’t have the athletic ability Bellamy does, so she’s not going to get that kind of scholarship.” 

 

Harper reached up and pushed Clarke’s hair behind her ear in a friendly gesture. 

 

“When Gabriel approached him, he offered him an  _ obscene  _ amount of money to take you on a single date. Bellamy had only just met you and didn’t know you at all. All he could think about was what good the money could do for his sister. As he got to know you, he realized that he really cared about you and told Gabriel to keep his money. That he didn’t want it anymore because he  _ liked you _ , so Gabriel just upped the amount of money even more.”

 

Harper sighed, shaking her head.

 

“He could only carry it on a little longer, though.  _ That’s _ why he turned you down at the party. He genuinely liked you and didn’t want to kiss you, knowing that Gabriel was hanging over his head. He backed out of the deal the next day. Told Gabriel to shove it, that he actually wanted to  _ date _ you and he couldn’t do that and go through with their deal. He was planning to tell you everything the night of the formal, but Gabriel beat him to it. Apparently, he was angry that Josie only used him to get to the formal and decided to ruin things between you and Bellamy before Bellamy could come clean.”

 

Clarke didn’t know what to think, but it wasn’t what she expected at all.

 

“Now, does it make what he did right? Not at all. It’s up to you whether or not you figure out if you can move past all that and actually give a relationship with him a try. I will support you, no matter what you decide.”

 

Clarke swallowed and nodded at her friend, who reached over, pulling her into a hug of comfort.

 

At that moment, the crowd interrupted in a roar, applause ringing out, and the two of them shot up to see that the clock had run down - The game was over and Wake had won.

 

“YES!” Harper cheered, jumping up and down.

 

Even Clarke smiled, in spite of her conflicted emotions.

 

She watched as the team celebrated on the field, all of them but Bellamy, who simply patted his teammates on the back in congratulations, his face a grimaced smile.

 

Sighing, she turned to Harper.

 

“I think I should go.”

 

Harper’s face fell somewhat but she quickly hid it and nodded.

 

“Of course. Call me if you need me?”

 

Clarke nodded and moved toward the steps, making her way out of the stadium.

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


She struggled to juggle her plastic bag of food with her keys as she made her way to the door of her dorm room.

 

After she left the game, she’d immediately gone to the dining hall to grab a sandwich for dinner, planning for a long night of eating and overanalyzing everything in her brain.

 

She definitely hadn’t planned on coming home to a wrecked-looking Bellamy Blake leaning against her door.

 

The keys she had just found dropped from her hands, clattering against the tile floor, and the sound caused Bellamy to jump up, turning to face her frozen figure.

 

He cleared his throat.

 

“Hey.” He said, his voice low and hesitant.

 

“Hey.” She whispered softly.

 

He ran a hand through his hair and it was at that moment she realized that he was still in his soccer uniform, grass stains maring the bright white of the fabric.

 

“I uh- I saw you leaving the game.” He admitted, his voice still low and increasingly unsure. “I tried to get to you, but uh- There were too many people.”

 

She swallowed, taking that information and running with it.

 

“Oh? Did you need something?” She asked, her voice shaking with something unknown.

 

His eyes found hers and he took a single step in her direction, giving her ample opportunity to step away.

 

Instead, she stayed still, waiting for what he was planning to say.

 

“Yeah.” He said, his voice sounding more sure now. “I need- I need to apologize, Clarke. In person. Not through some stupid Instagram post or through text messages and phone calls. I would’ve shown up sooner, but Josie threatened to end my life if I did.”

 

Clarke snorted, laughing in spite of the tension of the situation.

 

“Don’t laugh, she’s surprisingly scary for someone so tiny.”

 

She bit down on her bottom lip, trying to contain her amusement.

 

“Kind of like you.” He continued and she gave him her attention once more. “You terrify me, Clarke. I’ve never met anyone like you. Your honest and you don’t take my shit. You made me realize that, for years now, I’ve kept myself distant. From people, from relationships… And it made me make some pretty stupid decisions.” He admitted.

 

She nodded, her mouth pursing in agreement with his statement.

 

“And I’m sorry I didn’t see it sooner. I’m sorry that I let me own fears guide my decision-making instead of listening to my heart.” He sighed. “And if you never want to listen to me again or give me the time of day, I understand.”

 

Clarke waited until he stopped speaking to take her own step forward, moving in his direction, with careful, measured steps.

 

“Bellamy.” She said, her voice low. “I wrote you a poem. A  _ poem, _ Bellamy.”

 

His eyebrows furrowed.

 

“I know that.” He said, confusion coloring his tone.

 

Clarke rolled her eyes.

 

“You’re so  _ male. _ I wrote you a poem because I forgive you, you idiot. Even before Harper told me the whole story. What you did was stupid, yeah, but you did the right thing in the end.” She whispered. “And Gabriel is an  _ asshole. _ Your post and Harper filling in the blanks just made things make sense. I know you were going to tell me that night. I mean, I probably still would’ve been pissed, but… It takes serious guts to lay it all out there, even if it means ruining things for yourself.”

 

She took another step forward, now two feet away from him.

 

“And you made an  _ Instagram, _ Bellamy. I had to listen to you wax on about the horrors of social media for a solid  _ ten minutes _ at that formal. You think I don’t understand what that meant coming from you?”

 

She watched a tiny smirk form at the corner of his lips.

 

“So, in case you need to hear it out loud - You’re forgiven. If you need forgiveness, I give that to you. Now, if you wanted to continue to do ridiculously sweet things to make it up to me, I-”

 

He leaned forward, cutting off whatever she was going to say with his lips,her words turning to  whimpers, surprise giving her a pause in her response rate.

 

Pulling away, he reached out and pulled her in close, his hands cupping her face and pushing her hair behind her ears, their combined breathing heavy in the small hallway.

 

“That it?” She asked, her snarky tone coming unbidden.

 

“You want more, Princess?” He asked, eyebrow raised in challenge.

 

“If you think you can supply it.” She breathed, her hand gripping his jersey and pulling him in close. Her teeth bit down on her lip as her eyes roved up and down his sweaty form.

 

“Oh, I can.” He murmured, leaning in once more to steal her breath.

 

She was suddenly anxious to get inside her dorm room, leaving him and bending down to pick up her keys, rushing past him to the door and struggling to unlock it.

 

Bellamy’s hands came around to wrap around her waist, his lips moving to her neck, tracing kisses from the back of her neck to her collarbone.

 

“Fuck. I’m trying to fucking open the door, Bellamy.” She whimpered, the keys finally turning in the lock.

 

“So open it then, Clarke.” He said, his voice muffled by her neck.

 

She pushed the door open at last and suddenly, Bellamy was pushing her inside, closing the door behind them.

 

Before she could fully comprehend, he picked her up and placed her on top of her tall dorm room bed, stepping between her legs to kiss her senseless, her bag dropping to the ground beside them.

 

Her hands found rest in his hair, pulling on the strands there and digging in to his curls.

 

Bellamy growled against her mouth squeezing her waist once before moving to the hem of her shirt, his hands rest there.

 

“This okay?” He asked, breathless.

 

“Bellamy Blake, if you don’t take my shirt of  _ right this second,  _ I will kick you out of this room  _ myself. _ ”

 

He chuckled, his hands pulling her shirt up and off her body, throwing it to the floor behind him.

 

“Well, I didn’t know if you just wanted to make out in a dark corner or something.” He said, his lips moving down her collar to her neck, his hands pushing the strap of her bra down her arm as he spoke.

 

“Shut up. Ass.” She growled, reaching behind her to unhook her bra and flinging it across the room to join her shirt.

 

“Jesus.” Bellamy groaned, his hands immediately coming up to tease her breasts, his fingers at her nipples and his lips back at her pulse.

 

“Your turn.” She groaned, pulling his jersey up his body, exposing his hard chest to her gaze.

 

“If I didn’t know any better, I would think you have a thing for my soccer uniform.”

 

“Don’t flatter yourself.” She said, her voice weak as he continued to lavish her breasts with attention, her thighs locking against his waist, her pelvis pushing against his, attempting to get some friction.

 

“Whatever you say, Princess.” He mumbled, his hands moving to unbutton her jeans, pulling them down her thighs and to the floor.

 

While he was kneeling on the ground, she moved her foot to his shoulder keeping him in place.

 

He looked up at her, eyebrow raised in surprise.

 

“Need something?” He teased, even as his hands found the wet spot on her underwear and teased her through the material.

 

She moaned, her head falling back, and Bellamy took that as a sign to pull her panties down her legs as well, letting them fall to the floor.

 

He leaned in, his nose bumping against her now-exposed clit, his hands holding her thighs apart from his place on the ground.

 

“Oh God!” She squealed as his tongue made contact with her folds, finding her entrance and teasing her lightly.

 

“This what you wanted, Princess?” He asked, his voice vibrating against her as she fell back against the bed, suddenly unable to hold herself upright.

 

“Ugh. Shouldn’t you be too busy to talk?” She asked, her voice wrecked, her legs trembling.

 

He chuckled then, his lips finding her clit once more as his fingers moved to her entrance, one pressing inside and making her eyes roll back in her head.

 

He took his time, leisurely teasing her while his finger pressed slowly in and out before he decided to give her a break and added a second.

 

She whimpered at the feeling, his fingers much larger than her own and she couldn’t help but mentally salivate at the knowledge that his dick was probably much larger.

 

Speeding up, he added a third finger and she screamed. 

 

“Shhhh, we’re in a fucking dorm, do you want me banned?” He said against her, his hand pushing her thighs open further and his mouth returning to her clit as his fingers pressed more quickly, bring her to orgasm much faster than she had anticipated after his initial teasing.

 

She hummed, her foot massaging his back and then his thighs as he stood again.

 

“Not particularly. Maybe you should do something about it.” She said, her voice rough.

 

Bellamy growled as she pushed his shorts and underwear down his legs with his toes, leaning forward and kissing her once more, her taste on his lips.

 

“Gladly” He said, stepping out of his shorts. “Condom?”

 

“Desk drawer” she breathed and watched as he leaned over into the single side drawer and pulled it open, a few condoms at the bottom.

 

He put it on hastily before stepping back between her legs and pulling her back up off the bed, cradling her in his arms.

 

“Gonna have to be quiet. Think you’re up for the challenge?” He teased, his dick pressed up against her.

 

She reached out, grabbing him in her hand, and guided him inside of her.

 

The stretch of him was  _ so _ much and she  _ wasn’t _ fully prepared, so Bellamy leaned forward, his lips covering hers, obviously predicting her reaction.

 

She whimpered as he continued to press in until he couldn’t anymore, their bodies fully connecting, his chest against hers.

 

When he began to pull out, his lips left hers and he looked down where they were joined, his eyes closing in concentration as he breathed heavily.

 

He gave her a few thrusts to adjust before she pushed against him impatiently.

 

“Faster.” She said, her voice completely breathless.

 

“Whatever you want, Princess.” He responded, his thrusts immediately quickening, his hands gripping her ass and pulling her against him hard.

 

She gasped and fell back again, her back against the bed, unable to keep herself upright any longer without the support of his hands on her lower back.

 

His right hand reached down, pulling her thigh up, propping her foot against the bed and he was able to reach even further inside of her, causing her to yell unbidden, her hand moving to her mouth to stifle the sound.

 

When his hand moved to her clit, it was only a few more thrusts and she was done, flying over the edge, her hand doing very little to mute the sounds of her whimpers.

 

“ _ Fuck.”  _ Bellamy thrust a few more times before stilling, his hands gripping her ass and her knee tightly as he finished, breathing heavily.

 

The aftermath was quiet, both trying to catch their breath as Bellamy slowly pulled out, both of them wincing at the separation.

 

She lay there for a beat as he disposed of the condom and then he was back, picking her bodily up from the bed and laying her down before pulling the sheets back and covering them both with the soft fabric.

 

Immediately, she laid on his chest, her fingers grazling small circles as his arms wrapped around her shoulders, pulling her in closer.

 

They lay for a second, breathing one another in before either of them spoke.

 

“So.” Bellamy started. “You  _ are  _ a soccer fan, then.”

 

She looked up to his smirking face and rolled her eyes.

 

“Hardly.” She laid her cheek back on his chest and smiled a small smile. “More like a ‘you in your soccer uniform’ fan.”

 

He snorted and squeezed her shoulder tighter.

 

“Is that on your list of things you can’t get over too?”

 

She thought about it for a second before nodding against his chest.

 

“Yeah. Pretty sure that will always be a thing for me.” She wiggled her eyebrows and he laughed lightly.

 

“Well, I’ll have to make sure they let me keep one of my jerseys then.”

 

She grinned, propping herself up to look at him again.

 

“You can do that?”

 

He raised an eyebrow, his left tracing fingers softly down her cheek.

 

“For you, Princess? Anything.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this little journey and you caught all the references to the film!
> 
> May write a epilogue to this one some day, but first on my list is a second epilogue for "A Greater Pursuit" and my next RomCom Remix - "Life As We Know It!"
> 
> For updates, follow me on Twitter @MallidayWrites.
> 
> Until next time...
> 
> -Mally

**Author's Note:**

> HOPE YOU LIKE IT!
> 
> These two are SO MUCH FUN TO WRITE.
> 
> Please comment, kudos, whatever, and let me know how you like it!
> 
> You can also find me @MallidayWrites on Twitter for writing updates.
> 
> Mindless Dreaming will still be updated Sunday and there are only TWO UPDATES left!
> 
> PS If you aren't reading my friend bookishbishiswriting's fic "Hanging In The Balance," you should! Especially if you enjoyed this Soccer!Bellamy.
> 
> Until next Wednesday...
> 
> -Mally


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